


The Glee Years

by Anonymous



Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Adultery, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - True Blood Fusion, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Melodrama, Multi, Other, Pining, Pregnant Sex, RPF, Robot Sex, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Collection of <i>Glee</i> One-Shots with varying lengths, ships and ratings written mostly between the pilot and season three. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Better Version of Me

**Author's Note:**

> [ _Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray/Bot!Quinn Fabray_  
>  Buffyverse Fusion  
> Explicit
> 
>  _Also, I know Warren made the bots. This assumes Andrew picked up those skills._ ]

The first thing it knows is a deep interior _whirring_ , followed by an incredible jolt and when its eyes open they fall on a blond man staring back.  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
For a second it doesn’t know but something finally clicks into a place and a huge smile splits her features, “I am a she, a Quinn Fabray and I love Jesus, abstinence and cheerleading.”  
  
The man says, “Quinn2 to be exact,” before he jumps up with a grin, shrieks, “I still got it,” and begins pacing across the floor, “all I need to do is modify the word choice and…”  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
He stops for a moment and looks at her, “I’m Andrew Wells, I made you.”  
  
She starts to speak again when a door opens and closes. She can hear loud voices coming from the space beyond the room they’re in. Quinn2 tilts her head, asks, “who is that,” but the man’s different now and doesn’t answer.  
  
He runs to lock the door and she searches through her vocabulary, finds that _nervous_ is an adequate descriptor for his change in demeanor.  
  
“What is wrong?”  
  
He cuts his eyes to her and walks up calmly, reaches behind her and starts fiddling around with something on her back, “I need you to go to sleep now.”  
  
She starts to protest, “I am not…,” but complete darkness cuts her thoughts short.  
  
-  
  
The second time she wakes up the man, Andrew, isn’t in the room. She pulls herself into a seated position and listens to loud voices coming from behind the door for a moment...  
  
_“That’s not what I made her for! I just wanted to see…”_  
  
_“Oh, so all those sex modifications were just because?”_  
  
_…_  
  
_“Yeah, she has to be decommissioned.”_  
  
_“So you want me to kill her? I can’t do that, she’s a masterpiece!?”_  
  
_“You can’t kill something that’s not alive!”_  
  
before standing and moving to the dresser across the far wall. There are pictures on it, one with Andrew and an older blond woman and one with him by the ocean. The one that catches her attention though is of her maker with his arm around a young woman with long brown hair. There’s snow on the ground, they’re both in coats and hats and all she can really make out on the other person is the girls chin and pink bottom lip.  
  
The door opens and Andrew bursts in frantically, looks to the bed and shrieks, “oh Jesus,” when he sees her standing in the corner.  At first he seems relieved she’s still here but then it’s overridden with confusion, “how did you power up?”  
  
She doesn’t know so she doesn’t reply, “who is this?”  
  
He walks over to her and looks at the photograph, “that’s my cousin Rachel.”  
  
Quinn2 stares at the girl, whispers, “Rachel,” and when she looks back up Andrew is staring at her with a look she can’t place even after she shifts through her expression recognition directory.  
  
“I have to do some work on you Quinn2 so I’m going to have shut you down for a little while. Is that alright?”  
  
She looks at him with a smile and moves to sit on the bed, “of course.”  
  
-  
  
The third time she opens her eyes Andrew’s standing above her, breathing hard and looking over his shoulder, “you have to leave now Quinn2."  
  
She tilts her head, “what do you mean?”  
  
He doesn’t take the time to listen, just pulls her up and helps her into a black backpack, “I’ve programmed you with directions to the airport and,” he holds up a white piece of paper, says, “here’s your confirmation number,” before slipping it into a side pocket.  
  
“I know this is short notice but I’m sending you to Ohio tonight.”  
  
“Ohio?”  
  
He nods and hurries her out of the room for the first time. The interior of the house has hard wood floors and tall ceilings but she doesn’t get the chance to look around before he’s hustled her out the back door and into an alley, “yes Ohio, that’s where Rachel lives.”  
  
“Rachel,” hearing that name now makes something inside of her feel calm and she turns to him, face beaming, “I love Rachel.”  
  
He finally stops and looks at her, “yes, yes you do and,” he pulls another piece of paper from his pocket, “I almost forgot, here’s a letter for her. You can read it on the plane but I need to make sure that you remember to give it to her.”  
  
“Aren’t you coming?”  
  
He shakes his head, “Not this time, I’m sorry Quinn2,” and closes the door on her.  
  
She stands there for 10 minutes before a horn honks, something clicks inside of her at the sound and she turns to see a cab waiting. Quinn goes towards it and gets in without a backward glance.  
  
-  
  
“Next!”  
  
Quinn2 walks up to the ticket counter and smiles at the small dark-skinned woman seated there, “I’m a Quinn Fabray!”  
  
The woman raises her eyes, looking somewhat putout, “my names Simone,” before she really gets a look at her and begins perking up, “what’s your outfit for if you don’t mind me asking?”  
  
“I love cheerleading!”  
  
They stare at one another for a beat and the woman seems to be waiting for her to say something more but she’s already said everything that needs to be said.  
  
“Okay then,” she finally relents, “what can I help you with today?”  
  
“I need to be with Rachel.”  
  
Simone sits up taller and narrows her eyes at something on her desk, “who’re you flying with?”  
  
Quinn2 doesn’t understand the question so she tilts her head and repeats her objective, “I need to be with Rachel.”  
  
“Yes, you’ve said that already, do you have a confirmation number?”  
  
The last two words jog some of the information in her database, “yes I do!”  
  
She reaches into the backpack Andrew helped her into and shows Simone a white piece of paper, “here it is.”  
  
The other woman puts her hand out and leans closer to grab the paper, she tries to pull it but Quinn2 doesn’t let go. She shifts her hold, starts to look annoyed, “you have to let it go Miss.”  
  
“Oh yes,” she replies and next time the woman tugs she lets it go, leading Simone fall back into her chair unceremoniously.  
  
The woman straightens her clothes, looks around furtively and hunches down, mumbles, “thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome!”  
  
Quinn2 smiles while the woman works and grins wider when she finally hands a ticket over, “thank you for your business miss and have a great trip.”  
  
“Will Rachel be there?”  
  
She shrugs, “I don’t know who that is.”  
  
Quinn2 tilts her head to the side, “Will Rachel…”  
  
"Yes honey,” Simone answers quickly, “Rachel will be there.”  
  
“Good,” she says happily, “I love her.”  
  
Simone smiles tightly, “well she’s a very lucky girl, NEXT!”  
  
-  
  
Quinn2 reaches  the plane and finds seat 48B easily enough, she approaches and smiles at the dark haired young man seated on the end of her aisle as she climbs over him to get to her window seat.  
  
“Just that one bag,” he asks after a moment, she’s noticed him peeking out of the side of his eye and working himself up to say that since she sat down..  
  
“It’s all I need.”  
  
He nods, “I wish my ex was more like you, “and looks down shyly before catching her eyes again, “I wish she was as pretty as you too.”  
  
Quinn2 glances at him then, the tone of voice indicates flirting and she’s happy he finds her attractive, she grins, “my favorite part of me is my ponytail.”  
  
A quiet descends between them that he breaks after a moment, “I didn’t know there were cheerleading competitions out of the country,” he motions to her uniform, “where’s the rest of your squad?”  
  
“I love cheerleading.”  
  
His eyes narrow at her after a moment, much like Simone’s did earlier before he replies, “I bet.”  
  
The flirtatious edge has dropped and he raises his voice as he continues, “you’re probably real good at it too.”  
  
She turns her upper body toward him, questioning, “you sound like me and Andrew.”  
  
"Yes,” he answers, “you’re an American too right?”  
  
She perks up, “yes, you’re going to Ohio. Do you know Rachel?”  
  
His eyes get bigger as he leans back into his seat, “no I’m not going to Ohio and I don’t know Rachel.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
He slides the headphones around his neck back over his ears, “I’m sure. It was nice meeting you.”  
  
“You too,” she replies, watching his eyes drift closed and mimics his position, begins to shift herself into hibernation mode for the rest of the trip. She has a long way to go.  
  
-  
  
It’s taken hours, one transfer and 2 cab rides for her to get here but she doesn’t mind because this is where Rachel is. Quinn had gone to her house first and been pointed in the direction of the school. She’s standing in the hall now, staring at McKinley High’s trophy case with both hands on the glass, when she sees herself in one of the photographs. She’s on top of the pyramid with her arms and one leg up in the air, the look on her face could be described as… _haughty_.  
  
These are all classic cheerleading maneuvers; ruin the other side’s self-esteem with your awesome moves and nonchalance about how awesome they are but the strange thing about it is she doesn’t remember posing for it. She’s so engrossed that she doesn’t notice someone else is there until they’re almost on her, “Quinn?”  
  
She turns and sees the same thick brown hair and pouty lower lip from the photo only now she can see brown eyes as well. She smiles wide and steps closer, “hello Rachel.”  
  
The other girl looks slightly puzzled, “hey, why did you change into your cheerios uniform,” before she glances down and puzzled degenerates into alarm, “where’s the baby!?”  
  
She doesn’t know what she’s talking about and Quinn2 doesn’t really care anyway. She’s achieved her objective and is just happy to finally see her, “what are you doing?”  
  
Rachel stares at her, surprise, written across every feature, “you remember we were practicing a new ballad with Glee for Regional’s.” she looks a little suspicious, “are you alright?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Were you looking for me?”  
  
“Yes,” Quinn2 says again, walking closer.  
  
“Why?”  
  
She moves so they’re almost chest to chest and pushes the other girls hair back off her shoulders. Rachel looks a little uncomfortable but she isn’t moving away and Quinn2 touches her lower back, says, “because I love you,” and pulls her in. Leans her head to the side and kisses her full on the mouth.  
  
Rachel first stiffens then melts into it before stiffening up again and she feels the other girl shoving against her chest, lets her pull away sooner than she would have liked. Rachel takes two then three breaths before uttering, “whoa Quinn,” quietly, “what are you doing?”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
Quinn2 drops her bag and uses some of her strength this time. Pushes the other girl against the trophy case and holds her arms up on either side of her head, “I love you.”  
  
Rachel studies her for a moment and she stands still for the inspection, “since when?”  
  
Quinn2 tilts her head to the side, she doesn’t understand the question but, for her, she’ll try to answer it anyway, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”  
  
Rachel’s face looks stony for a moment before it kind of scrunches up and she thinks the girl might cry, “I was never sure…”  
  
All her words are running together and Quinn2 kisses her before she can finish anyway, licks her bottom lip and is quickly granted entrance to her mouth. Lets one of her arms drop and wraps the ends of Rachel’s hair around her fist, pulls her head back so she can deeper it. She doesn’t realize Rachel’s trying to get some space until she shoves her shoulders and pulls back, gasping for breath but smiling from ear to ear, asks, “don’t you breathe,” with a laugh.  
  
“No.”  
  
The laughter gets louder at that and Quinn2 watches her for a moment, happy to have made her smile before she leans into her again and traps her, their bodies now connect from pelvis to palm. Quinn2 stares at the other girl and lets her hand drift down her side, wedges it between their bodies and starts to reach between her thighs when Rachel grabs her wrist.  
  
“Someone’ll come in,” she protests but Quinn2’s business is arousal and she can see Rachel’s eyes are dilated, her respiration has picked up and she can hear her heart beating faster. This can mean one of two things: She’s actually afraid or she’s turned on.  
  
Quinn2 has a feeling it’s the latter.  
  
Rachel squeezes her hand and does that thing where she bites her lip and looks up through her lashes, “let’s go back to my house.”  
  
“Why,” Quinn2 asks and the other girl looks down at her shoes with a smile.  
  
“Cause we can’t do this here, let me go get my coat okay? Then we’ll go to my house.”  
  
She’s walking away when Quinn2 remembers the note and calls out, “Wait, I have something for you,” as she reaches down, pulls an envelope from her bag and walks up to hand it over.  
  
Rachel turns it in her hands and smiles, says, “alright, I’ll be right back” as she tears it open and Quinn2 stares as the other girl flounces around the corner. She doesn’t move until she hears a sing songy voice directly behind her.  
  
“Oooh Britney, I’m going to tell Santana!”  
  
She turns to see a blonde girl in a white dress walking towards her with a secretive look, “did I just see you kissing Rachel Berry?”  
  
She doesn’t answer just stares at the girls features which are looking more and more familiar the closer she gets until Quinn2 breaks out into a cheerful smile, “you look like me!”  
  
The girl’s grin drops and she stops cold, “Britney?”  
  
“No, I’m a Quinn Fabray.”  
  
The girl takes a breath and holds it, her eyes get big and her mouth drops open but no sound comes out until Quinn2 steps closer. That’s when she lets out a high-pitched shriek and scrambles backwards, hand clutching her heart. She looks frozen in place and though Quinn2 first thought, she looked scared she now upgrades it to terrified.  
  
She points at her with a shaking finger, repeats, “you…you…you,” but never goes beyond that.  
  
Quinn2 starts toward her again but stops when the girl lets out another scream and that’s when she hears Rachel come skidding around the corner behind her,  she turns to see that the letter’s nowhere in sight as she runs past her and grabs the other girl, makes her sit on the floor.  
  
The other blond grabs onto Rachel’s arms in what looks like a bruising grip, sputters, “I can’t breathe,“ and she rubs the girls back, trying to soothe her.  
  
She has to tell her to put her head between her knees twice before the girl listens, “you’ve got to calm down okay. If you stay upset you’ll hurt yourself and the baby.”  
  
“I thought she was Britney,” the girl Quinn2’s beginning to think of as ‘The Other Quinn’ says as if Rachel hasn’t spoken at all, “you were kissing her.”  
  
The hand on her back falters before regaining its rhythm, “just focus on breathing alright, I’m going to take care of everything. Promise me you’ll stay here until I get back.”  
  
“She…”  
  
“Promise!”  
  
She finally nods yes jerkily and Rachel gets up, walks back towards her slowly like she’s a bomb and stops just short of her reach, “hi.”  
  
“Hello,” Quinn2 replies, “are we going to your house now?”  
  
Rachel looks at the other girl over her shoulder before grabbing her hands and whispering, “Andrew sent you?”  
  
“He made me, did you read the letter?”  
  
“It’s in my pocket, I wasn’t able to finish. Can…,” she stops and looks over her shoulder again before picking up her backpack and pulling her further down the hall, “let’s go out to my car so we can talk okay?”  
  
“Of course,” Quinn2 replies and lets herself be led out the door and to a blue compact vehicle.  
  
Rachel opens the door and throws her bag into the backseat before shuffling her into the car, closes it behind her and circles around to get into the driver’s seat.  
  
They sit quietly for a moment and Quinn2 can tell Rachel’s gathering steam to say something so she waits patiently.  
  
“I have to go in and take care of her but I’ll leave my keys so you can turn on the AC and the radio, can I trust you not to steal my car because my dad’s will be so mad if it gets stolen while they’re gone.”  
  
“I’ll never leave you,” Quinn2 answers flatly because she’d thought it would be obvious by now.  
  
Rachel swallows and smiles tightly at that before turning on the car and getting out. Quinn2 twists in her seat and follows her across the parking lot until she disappears back into the building. She stares at the door for exactly 23 minutes before Rachel comes out with her arm around The Other Quinn. They go in the opposite direction until they reach a sporty red vehicle and Rachel helps the girl inside. They speak for another 6 ½ minutes before Rachel comes back over and gets back into the driver’s seat.  
  
Quinn2 watches her take a slow breath, “look, I’m not 100% sure what’s happening here but I need to shut you off so I can get…Quinn, the _other_ Quinn…Original Recipe Quinn, under control. Is that alright?”  
  
She doesn’t want to be shut down again but Rachel looks on edge and if it’ll help her, she’ll do it.  
  
Quinn2 smiles and turns so she can get to her control panel, “if you need to.”  
  
The other girl hesitates before gently patting her shoulder, “I’m gonna figure this all out alright?”  
  
Quinn2 nods, says, “I trust you,” before everything goes dark.  
  
-  
  
When she powers up she’s laying across a bed in a pink room and she can hear voices coming from beyond the door. She amplifies her auditory attachments so she can hear them better.  
  
_“Wait,”_ the one Rachel called ‘Original Recipe Quinn’ says lowly, _“you’re telling me your creepy cousin made a sex doll of me?!?”_  
  
" _I don’t know what he did Quinn,”_ Rachel replies, sounding weary _._  
  
_“How does he even know who I am.”_  
  
_“He visited here last year. I guess he saw you then.”_  
  
The other girl growls, “ _where does he live?”_  
  
_“California. Well he used to live in California but his town kind of blew up or something. I don’t know, the details are sketchy, anyways, he lives out of the country now and he isn’t answering my calls.”_  
  
She hears something rustle, _“he did give me a note though…”_  
  
" _Alright let’s see,”_ the other girl cuts her off _, “you can’t get in contact with him, you don’t know where he lives  
and there’s a robot of me passed out on your bed that we have no idea what to do with it. Is that right?”_  
  
_“…”_  
  
_“Goddammit Rachel!”_  
  
_“I cannot be blamed for this when I’m as much in the dark as you are!”_  
  
Quinn2 gets up and opens the door quietly, follows the voices toward the kitchen, turns the corner and watches the other her and Rachel argue at the kitchen table. She knows the exact moment Rachel notices her presence though because she stops talking. The other girl turns to follows her line of sight and Quinn2 has tunnel vision, all she can see is the one who looks like her.  
  
She smiles and moves closer, asks, “you’re a Quinn Fabray too!?!?”  
  
She never thought she’d meet another one.  
  
The other blond narrows her eyes with a caustic look, the fear having been replaced with anger, “not _a_ Quinn Fabray, _the_ Quinn Fabray,” she clarifies, “there’s only one of us.”  
  
“Come on,” Rachel begs, “this isn’t her fault.”  
  
“Then whose is it?! It’s not mine you say it’s not yours but all I know is that I suddenly have a doppelganger who’s going to try and kill me!”  
  
“I would never hurt you,” Quinn2 says emphatically, “I love you, you’re me."  
  
The Other Quinn rolls her eyes, and leans back in her chair, “you’re scrap metal.”  
  
“Stop it you two,” Rachel says emphatically, rubbing her temple and she knows the girl gets headaches so Quinn2 moves to put her favorite tea on the stove.  
  
The Other Quinn jumps out of her seat when she sees where she’s going, “what’s that thing doing?!?”  
  
She stops and turns to see Rachel looks alarmed as well, “you have a headache. I was going to make you some tea with lemon.”  
  
Rachel softens in response, “really?”  
  
“Well I’m just going to leave you two alone then,” The Other Quinn, yells, “do you realize that you’re talking to a robot?!?”  
  
Rachel cuts her eyes at the girl before looking back at Quinn2 with a smile, “thanks so much but could you sit down instead?”  
  
She nods and takes the seat that’s just been vacated.  
  
“Quinn, sit down.”  
  
She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the counter, “I’d rather not.”  
  
“Whatever, as I was trying to say earlier, Andrew gave me a letter along with…her. He promises that they never had any…”  
  
She stops and Quinn2 can tell she’s choosing her words carefully, “contact that we should know about and that he knows this is weird but he can’t tell us any more than what he’s already said in this letter.”  
  
“Well did he happen to say how we can kill it?”  
  
Rachel gives The Other Quinn the eye, “he does mention how we can do something to her called,” her gaze flits to Quinn2, “decommissioning.”  
  
“Well why didn’t you say that in the first place?”  
  
She sits up tall like a soldier about to go into battle, “because I’m not sure that would be the best course of action.”  
  
There’s dead quiet as The Other Quinn stares at Rachel with wide eyes, “of course it’s not, not when you have someone to make you lemon and tea when you have a headache and someone to make out in the halls with.”  
  
Flags of red appear high in the brunettes cheeks at the mention of what they’d been doing but she doesn’t waver, “I think we need to talk about this.”  
  
“No we don’t! If you won’t do it, I will,” The other blond states and moves toward Quinn2 with purpose before Rachel steps in her way.  
  
“No.”  
  
They stare at one another for a beat, each waiting for the other to break, before The Other Quinn folds. Stomps to the door angrily and looks back just once before storming out.  
  
-  
  
Her dads come back a day later and Quinn2 is no longer able to leave the room in the evenings. She waits for Rachel to return every afternoon and even though she doesn’t let Quinn2 touch her again that’s okay, she’s just happy to be with her. On their afternoons alone Rachel teaches her how to conceal her identity and about the magic of musical theatre. Sometimes she brushes her hair afterwards just before they go to bed and she stares at her face in the mirror, says, “I miss The Other Quinn, do you,” and when Rachel doesn’t say anything, she has her answer.  
  
-  
  
Quinn2 goes to look for The Other Her that Saturday when Rachel’s off with her dads. She follows the other girls directions and changes out of her uniform, puts a cap, some jeans and a pink t-shirt on and keeps her head down. She doesn’t want anyone to get in her way.  
  
It takes her an hour before she finds The Other Her standing on the outside of the fence at McKinley, watching the cheerleaders practice on the field.  
  
“Why haven’t you come to see us?”  
  
She doesn’t turn around to answer but she stiffens, “because this is insane.”  
  
“What is?”  
  
She spins around suddenly, demands, “why were you kissing her that day,” and even though it has nothing to do with what they’d been talking about, Quinn2 knows exactly what she’s asking.  
  
“Because I wanted to,” she takes a step forward, “I want to kiss you too.”  
  
Quinn2 hears her respiration pick up at that but she crosses her over her chest and ignores it, “you’re not me you know. You _look_ like me back when I wasn’t a statistic but you aren’t.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“And you don’t have feelings either! Someone made you in a garage somewhere.”  
  
“Someone made you too.”  
  
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a dude hard up for a girlfriend,” The Other Quinn turns her nose up, “God made me.”  
  
Quinn2 tilts her head to the side, “but didn’t God give Andrew the talent to create me as well?”  
  
The girl opens her mouth before shutting it and folding her arms across her chest, “I’m going to talk to Rachel soon and we’re going to decommission you so you can just stop it now.”  
  
“Stop what?”  
  
“Acting interested?”  
  
“I’m not acting, I love you. Why are you afraid of me?”  
  
Then something happens Quinn2 doesn’t expect, The Other Quinn starts laughing. Deep, choking, gales of laughter that take three tries before she can actually answer the question, “because you’re a robot, because you’re going to try and take over my life and steal…”  
  
“I don’t want to take Rachel from you.”  
  
She flips her hair, “I wasn’t going to say that.”  
  
She was but Quinn2 lets it pass.  
  
The Other Quinn starts laughing again and turns back to the field, gabs the chain link fence, closes her eyes and faces the sky, “ _’cause you’re a robot_ ,’ this is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”  
  
“You’ll visit more now?”  
  
“Why do you want me to? You and Rachel are over there playing house what am I going to add to that?”  
  
She tilts her head to the side, “we miss you.”  
  
The Other Quinn looks at her sadly then, says, “I have to go alright.”  
  
She starts walking away before Quinn2 can reply but she does anyway, shouts, “I’ll see you later,” after the other girls retreating form.  
  
-  
  
She shows up at their backdoor a week later and struts in like nothing ever happened. Sits at the table and looks up at Quinn2 and Rachel at the stove to announce, “I got a job.”  
  
At Rachel’s astounded look she just raises her eyebrows in accomplishment, “that’s right. I don’t want this one doing Quinn Fabray better than I do,” she says off handedly pointing to her and Quinn2 doesn’t get it but when they laugh she does too.  
  
"Where have you been,” Rachel asks after a moment with a pouty lip and Quinn2 sees The Other Quinn realize she doesn’t know about their chat before she glances down at her hands.  
  
“This is a lot to get used to and I still haven’t but I wanted to see you two so I’m here.”  
  
The brunette smiles, says, “good,” as The Other Quinn moves toward them.  
  
“I guess we should eat then,” the other blond states, raising the spoon to her lips only to have Quinn2  take it from her hand.  
  
“Why? That’s not what you came for.”  
  
The Other Quinn blushes a deep red but she doesn’t look away even though it seems like she wants to, asks,  “what did I come for then,” lowly and Quinn2 can ear her heart beating harder against her ribs. She leans forward, hesitates once before taking her mouth, grasps her hips and pulls her forward until the other girl wraps her hands around her shoulders and angles her head so she they fit better.  
  
They break apart on a gasp, stare at one another until they hear Rachel mutter, “I know this is incredibly cliché but oh my God that was so hot,” on a moan and they turn to watch her turn the stove off and stumble toward them slowly.  
  
She wraps one arm around each of their waists, eyes darting from one Quinn to the other, trying to decide which one she wants to kiss first before settling on The Other Quinn. They come together like a car crash, no finesse just tongues and teeth and she watches them. Squeezes the arm that’s still around her middle, traces Rachel’s collarbone with the tip of her middle finger before she leans forward to follow the same line with the tip of her tongue.  
  
The Other Quinn pulls away, flushed and pretty, and the sparkle from her lip-gloss is smeared across both girls faces. The thought that it’s on her too makes Quinn2 smile and ask “we’re going to the room now?”  
  
“Yeah,” Rachel answers after a moment of quiet and they both look at The Other Quinn, “right?”  
  
“Yes,” she says quickly and lets she herself be dragged out of the kitchen, through the living room, down a back hall and into Rachel’s bedroom.  
  
The door closes behind them and the other two girls seem to freeze, the heat from the kitchen having been tamped down by reality. Quinn2 wants them to be comfortable though and starts to pull off her dress, says, “I’ll go first.”  
  
The white shift dress she's wearing comes off quickly enough and she’s not wearing anything underneath it. When she looks up the other two are staring back, gaped mouthed.  
  
“God,” The Other Quinn groans, voice dreamy, “did I look like that?”  
  
“Yeah,” Rachel replies, standing up and starting to pull off her sweater like she’s not even aware of it, “you still do.”  
  
They watch her and she stares back as the red plaid skirt, bra, undershirt and underwear come off and she’s darker than them. Her breasts are bigger, so are her hips and her nipples and Quinn2 wants to take one of them between her teeth. She tries to put her hand on her hip, misses and makes it the second time, flips her hair over her shoulder with the flick of her chin and tries to look like she isn’t as nervous as Quinn2 knows she is.  
  
“Your turn,” she says lowly and The Other Quinn stands, wavers a bit before straightening her spine and taking down the side zip on her butter yellow baby doll dress, lets it fall into a puddle at her feet before stepping out of it and throwing it on the dresser.  
  
She’s slower to remove her bra and underwear but when she does, other than a bit of a baby bump, she and Quinn2 are indistinguishable. Same small upturned breasts, same long limbs, same pale skin. Rachel steps forward and wraps her arms around them again, slides her hands them down their backs and she can feel the girl shaking.  
  
“Are you two okay,” Quinn2 asks and when they nod she smiles, it’s time to exercise her talents. She places her palm into the center of their chests and shoves them back onto Rachel’s four-poster. That gets a smile from The Other Quinn and a wide-eyed look from Rachel but at least the shyness seems to be gone.  
  
“Move up a little please,” they do and Quinn2 climbs onto the edge and kneels at their feet, bites her lip, asks, “do you want to see my attachments?”  
  
They glance at each other quickly and she can see some unease over who she is, over _what_ she is, creeping back into their faces. The Other Quinn clears her throat and nudges her with the tip of her toe, “yeah show us.”  
  
Quinn2 nods quickly, excited to share, and bends her arms up at the elbow, “I have dual pump action, a spin sequence, and vibration,” she explains matter of factly, her forearms become dislodged slightly, the gleaming metal beneath the skin like cover visible, and she demonstrates each sequence at its mention.  
  
“My fingertips secrete lubrication and all of my phases come in three speeds.”  
  
She smiles hugely at the blank looks on their faces, “my tongue is also capable of all these functions, which would you two like to try first?”  
  
“Oh God, whatever you want,” Rachel babbles red faced as The Other Quinn mutters, “this is fine really,” more to herself than anyone else, “it’s like masturbation when you think about it.”  
  
Quinn2 pulls back then with a serious look, says, “though God doesn’t say anything specific about masturbation he does say in Corinthians 6:18 – ‘Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a man commits are outside his body, but he who sins sexually sins against his own body.’ There’s also Matthew 5: 27-28- ‘You shall not commit adultery but I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.’ There’s also…”  
  
The Other Quinn leans forward and covers her mouth with a hand and a smile, “you can stop now and let me worry about that okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Quinn2 replies and pushes her back flat, starts arranging them to her liking.  
  
She bends the legs closest to each other’s up at the knee and she maneuvers their other leg up and out to give herself more room to work. Quinn2 touches them deftly, adds a little slick to her fingers and uses her thumbs on their clits first to warm them up.  
  
The Other Quinn bites her lip and moans a little but Rachel’s quicker on the draw. She’s already breathing hard, starting to sweat and Quinn2 decides she’s ready for more, adds a little vibration then more when Rachel makes an appreciative sound.  
  
She looks over at the Other Quinn and works two fingers inside her slowly, doesn’t do anything fancy because she doesn’t seem in a hurry. She sticks to slow and steady, gentle touches and tugs, until they’re wet enough for more. Then she ratchets things up. She pumps harder, keeps the vibration for Rachel and adds a bit of spin for The Other Quinn but she mostly just watches both of them closely, tries to anticipate their needs.  
  
Rachel’s eyes are scrunched tight and her mouth’s open as she pushes down, seeking more so Quinn2 gives it to her, pumps harder, vibes stronger and even adds a random spin sequence until she looks like she’s going to break something from the strain.  
  
The Other Quinn is completely different though, she doesn’t reach for her orgasm, just lays back and enjoys the ride. Stares uncomprehendingly up at the ceiling and rocks her hips. Twists a nipple with one hand, grasps the sheets with the other and takes deep even breathes. She adds a little vibe even though The Other Quinn already looks happy and smiles when she stops swaying and starts grinding, Quinn2 isn’t here to be _good_ , she’s here to blow minds.  
  
She leans forward then and licks her, runs her tongue over her clit and adds just enough vibration to make The Other Quinn shake. Rachel gets up on her elbows and watches, pushes her hips at Quinn2 asking for some of what The Other Quinn’s getting and she happily obliges, moves between her legs and runs the tip of tongue around her before sucking it into her mouth.  
  
She’s almost there, Quinn2 can feel and The Other Quinn must too because she reaches over and pulls Rachel down into a kiss that makes Quinn2 pump harder until Rachel finally goes over with a shake and squeak, one down, one to go.  
  
She focuses all her attention on The Other Quinn then. Pumps deeper, takes her back into her mouth and sucks harder until she makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat and grasps Quinn2’s head between her thighs. She stays until it’s completely over then pulls back into the kneeling position she started in and waits for them to say something.  
  
They’re both damp with sweat, wet tendrils of hair spread out over the sheet as Rachel opens one eye and asks, “why do we look like we just ran a marathon,” breathlessly, “and you look like you’re about to do a very tasteful erotica photo shoot?”  
  
Quinn2 turns to in the mirror and see’s that not even a hair is out of place. She turns back, says, “I don’t sweat,” flatly and tilts her head to the side when the other girls look at one another before getting up and moving towards her.  
  
The Other Quinn pulls her forward and pushes her flat, “lets see if we can remedy that. You can have an orgasm right?”  
  
“Yes, Andrew gave me pleasure receptors but he didn’t put…,” she’s cut off by Rachel’s mouth on her’s and The Other Quinn’s hand between her legs. They aren’t as easygoing as she was, they don’t try to slowly wind her up and keep her on edge, they immediately go for broke.  
  
Rachel licks into her mouth and The Other Quinn spreads her legs, leans forward and doesn’t lick so much as suck. She’s a little tentative, Quinn2 can tell she’s never done this before, but she’s eager and willing and right now that’s all she’s ever wanted.  
  
She reaches down and touches her hair, kisses Rachel back with everything she’s got until the girl pulls away, leans down to bite a nipple and that’s it. That’s all it takes to make her push her hips up and come.  
  
Quinn2 is breathing hard even though she doesn’t have too. The Other Quinn keeps licking and she’s a little disappointed when she finally pulls away, looks at her and says, “nope,” she still looks perfect,” on a yawn before plopping down beside her.  
  
“We’ll just have to try again later,” Rachel says following suit and Quinn2 smiles, says, “I tried to tell you that I wasn’t equipped with sweat attachments,” but they’re already drifting off and haven’t listened to a word.  
  
She watches them before getting up when Rachel grabs her hand and groggily asks, “where are you going?"  
  
"Yeah , stay here,"  The Other Quinn adds without bothering to roll over and even though she has no need to sleep, Quinn2 cuddles back between the pair of them and closes her eyes because they asked her to.


	2. Is This A Love Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _Emma Pillsbury/April Rhodes_  
>  Explicit]

When she goes over this in her mind later, Emma will swear that she didn’t plan any of it. Truthfully, she just doesn’t know anymore.

-

She is standing in the lobby outside of the principal’s office, making a note to buy more Lysol wipes from Target on her way home when the pencil she’d just picked up from there last week slips through her fingers.

She considers leaving it there, the carpet in this room hasn’t been changed since the 70’s and probably hasn’t been vacuumed in as much time, but it was sharpened to just the correct tip. Pointed enough to keep ones writing smooth and dark but not so sharp that the end would break off mid-sentence and leave dark lead marks everywhere. She narrows her eyes and grimaces, decides that no, it really isn’t expendable, before bending her knees and lowering herself to hover just above the olive green Berber carpet.

She hears someone walk in and take a seat to the side of her,  looks up and is met with red toes in some peep toe pink heels. She stares at them before letting her eyes follow the line of the leg up to a pair of naked, pale, uncrossed, thighs and something beyond them that Emma can’t really comprehend seeing at first.

She tilts her head with curiosity and her eyes widen as it dawns on her, the girl isn’t wearing any underwear.

She should look away, grimace over how unhygienic it is to wear a short skirt sans panties and then sit on a chair that she’s pretty sure Figgins had pulled out of a dumpster somewhere, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even breathe, just stares between the strangers knees with amazement.

She can’t really see anything, the girls legs are mostly closed, but she's slightly surprised by the degree to which she wants to. Emma may not be the most experienced 31 year old woman around, she’s only had sex with two men (one of which she stopped seeing after they went to the movies and he licked his fingers before sticking them back into her tub of popcorn) but contrary to what some might think, she still has a sex drive. She knows she has impossible standards so during the long stretches between relationships Emma's become a master at taking care of her own needs in five minutes or less. She also owns a decent amount of porn to help her meet that goal so her sudden interest in this stanger, though not undesirable, is unexpected.  
   
The girl shifts and some part of Emma recognizes that her gaze is going to be noticed if she doesn't look away soon but she's too captivated to even try, it's been so long since she's been with anyone, even this stolen intimacy is enough to shorten her breath. The girl sits back in her seat then, allowing her knees to slide wider, distracting Emma from her thoughts and the sight of the hairless flesh between them makes her legs wobble.

“Mr. Friggins can see you now.”

The secretary’s voice breaks her out of whatever stupor she’s fallen into and when she looks up, flustered with a face as read as her hair, the cool blue eyes of April Rhodes are staring back.

-

After discussing her with Will, Emma had immediately gone to the library to try and find a photo of her. She still has the same blonde hair (it was longer then) and the same small frame (her face is a little fuller now) and when the thought that she is prettier today floats through Emma’s mind she doesn’t try to deny it.

-

During her break she goes back to the library and pulls the year book back from the shelf. She flips through until she sees the black and white photo of a smiling girl a decade or so younger than the one she’d seen today. She has no idea what comes over her then, Emma hates the idea of defacing a book in anyway, but she’s tearing the page out and shoving it into her purse before she can think not to.

 -

It just gets worse from here.

-

She’s on step 2 of her nightly 8 part bathing ritual when April pops into her head. This time she doesn’t even question when her thoughts go to those opened toed shoes and that little skirt. She feels her muscles beginning to tense and wonders if this is what Will felt when he’d looked at her back then. Like a cocked gun, vibrating with intense, incomprehensible wanting.

She lets her mind go to what she’d seen beneath the other woman’s skirt and leans back, throws a leg over the edge of the tub and out of the way of her roaming hands. Teenagers being teenagers she knows he probably wondered about that too. What that part of April might feel like, look like…taste like.

The thought of _him_ thinking that makes her stop kidding around and work the fingers between her legs with single-minded purpose.  He’d probably done exactly what she was doing now when _he_ fantasized about the older girl a kid like him would never get the chance to have.

She takes a deep breath, lets her eyes close and smiles a little at the knowledge that she’s achieved something he never could.

-

It’s petty really.

This…whatever, she has going on in her head with April. She’s a rational woman and she knows that she’s interested in the petit blonde simply because she has feelings for Will the way he had feelings for April. A yearning that can never come to fruition, a relationship that can never be and she knows a part of why she wants April because she’s angry at him for that but it doesn’t stop her from getting wet as she stands in the hall and listens to the other woman sing _Maybe This Time_.

-

Emma’s pretty sure she chocks a little when she walks into her office to find April sitting there but she gets herself under control quickly.

“Good afternoon Ms. Rhodes,” she says a smile and sits, “what can I do for you today?”

“You can stop trying to get Will to kick me out of Glee.”

She hesitates before leaning back in her chair, Emma has always hated confrontation, “I haven…”

“Cut the shit,” April cuts in, standing and leaning forward onto Emma’s desk, distracting her with a fabulous view of décolletage, “I’ve been around the block a time or two honey and I know what’s happening here.”

“What’s happening,” she asks lowly. Frightened, turned on and confused by this entire situation.

The shorter woman looks at her like she’s an idiot before saying, “you know,” slowly, “you’re an odd one.”

“Excuse me.”

“I see the way you look at Will…”

She gasps, she can’t stop herself, but April just goes on talking without acknowledging it.

“…but I remember the way you looked at me too,” she leans in further and lowers her voice, “that first day in the principal’s office.”

“You’re mistaken,” she cuts her off with a stutter, feeling light headed, but April looks back with a knowing smirk, “I don’t remember seeing you at all.”

“Well maybe you don’t remember my face. Want me to pull up my skirt?”

Emma gets to her feet quickly, her heart beating out of her chest, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about but stop it now Ms. Rhodes!”

“No you stop,” she counters with steel in her voice, giving Emma a look that says it all without saying a word before turning on her heel and slowly exiting the room.

-

Afterwards Emma exits her office, locks the door behind her and leaves a note saying that she’ll be back in an hour. She gets into her car and drives home carefully (hands gripping the steering wheel) before going inside, closing the door and furiously masturbating.

-

She’s making her way into the auditorium for Glee’s performance (she’s running late on account of a particularly stubborn wrinkle on her fitted bed sheet that needed to be ironed out) when April steps into her path, hands on hips.

“I thought we had a deal?”

She barely stops herself from running into the other woman, “excuse me?”

“I know you’re the one who told him about me helping the other kids in Glee.”

“You were giving them alcohol and porn April!”

“It was a fitness magazine!”

Emma straightened her spine, “I’m sure it was but when students are coming to school drunk I have a duty to do something about it.”

“Yeah a duty,” she scoffs and turns away, throwing, “when Will’s involved anyway,” over her shoulder before turning a corner.

Emma looks at the doors to the auditorium before turning and giving chase. She loses her at the end of the next hall but hears doors closing and follows the sound to the boys locker room. She wavers before pushing through the doors and sees April sitting on one of the long benches in between two rows of lockers.

“What did you mean out there?”

“By what,” the blonde asks, playing possum.

“Look,” she says with what she hopes is an authoritative tone, “Mr. Schuester is a colleague and a friend only.”

“Sure,” she snorts, “I’ve been here 5 minutes and I know that’s not true.”

“He’s a married man,” she deadpans with the same hollow conviction of a smoker three days without a cigarette and hanging on by a thread. It’s her mantra, her source of strength when he does something cute like dance or scrape gum off her shoe or breathe.

“That hasn’t stopped him before.”

She tenses up, asks, “what are you talking about,” suspiciously but the other woman only grins a secret little grin and shrugs coyly.

“You’re lying.”

“You sure?”

Emma’s moving towards April before she can even consider what she’s going to do when she reaches her but she knows she has to get her hands on her right then. The blonde moves around her and holds an arm over her head, shifts into a menacing pose, shows Emma a piece of dingy white clothing, orders her to, “stop right there.”

She does, not sure why but some instinct tells her to. She narrows her eyes at the piece of cloth and tries to decipher what it is when April grabs a section and lets it unfold. It takes Emma a moment but when the form comes together in her mind she rears back with a gag.

It’s a jock strap.

She takes a step towards the door and April stops her, says, “move one inch sister and you’ll need an acid bath to get this off your skin.”

Emma does as she’s told. Stands as straight as she would if there was a weapon in the other woman’s hand and, essentially, there is. They stand there quietly, sizing one another up, looking for a weakness to exploit, before April says, “sit,” curtly and Emma’s ass hits the wooden bench directly behind her without resistance.

There’s a strange look on the blondes face as walks toward her, jock strap still held high and threatening. Emma knows her drunk look, her just-had-sex-with-underage-boys-look and her getting-one-over look but this one’s different In a way she can’t articulate but _feels_ none the less.

“Take your dress off.”

“Excuse me?!”

All she does is brandish the offending material in her direction and Emma gets to work pulling the violet sheath dress down her legs, folding it and sitting it on the bench behind her. April looks her over before moving closer and motioning towards the black satin underwear set, “never would have thought you had it in you ginger.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, asks, “what are you gonna do? Take my dress and leave me here?”

“Somebody’s done that to you before?”

She doesn’t reply and April relaxes her stance a little, moves forward until they knock knees and touches the side of her neck with her free hand. She leans forward and is so close Emma can smell peppermint on her breath. She can push her away now but she doesn’t move to try, starts to say, “April...,” but the woman kisses her before she can finish.

Her arms are still crossed over her chest and the nails dig into their opposite shoulders as she tilts her head back to help April get a better angle. Emma parts her lips a little and squeezes her eyes shut at the taste of the other woman’s cherry lip gloss, slips her tongue past her teeth and tentatively moves it against Aprils before the blonde takes over the pace. The other woman lets a hand slip up into her hair and pulls her head back further, bites her lip a little harsher than necessary and Emma can’t catch her breath but she doesn’t want to stop.

April’s hand slides from her neck to her shoulder and when she lazily runs her thumb along Emma’s clavicle she can’t stop herself from nipping the other woman back. She finally tears her arms from their defensive position across her chest and places them against Aprils back. Doesn’t try to pull her closer or keep her near, just holds her like an anchor to keep her feet on the ground.

April leans back after a moment, dodges Emma’s endeavors to reconnect and places her hand in the center of her chest, says, “lie back,” with none of the bravado she’d shown just minutes before.

Emma starts to lean back but the thought of all the naked male asses that have probably been on this very bench cause her to hesitate. She moves to say just that but April is slipping to her knees in front of her and her hearts beating like a jackhammer and all she does is groan as she reaches back and spreads her dress out quickly, lays on it with stilted breath.

She wants to ask what’s happening but she remembers Aprils warning and doesn’t, it’s not like she needs to anyway. Emma’s a smart woman and she wants this but she can’t bring herself to spread her legs or even look down when she feels he glide of Aprils hair against her hip bone. Suddenly Wills face pushes to the front of her mind and doubts creep into her mind. When this was all just a fantasy she’d been ready but with the reality of it staring her face she panics, says, “I can’t,” and tries to move but April won’t let her.

“Him again,” she asks, sounding frustrated.

“No…,” Emma shakes her head before correcting herself, “well not exactly…”

“You’re ridiculous!”

“What?”

“Do you think he’s waiting on you?”

“I told you this wasn’t about Will,” and it isn’t about him, but it kind of is and she’s confused.

April looks like she wants to say something Emma has a feeling she won’t like but then the blond leans forward a little and changes tack, “Will had a crush on me didn’t he?”

She nods slowly, enthralled by the lip gloss smears across Aprils face, _her_ lip gloss smears.

“Well, how about you get him back for leading you…”

“He never led me on,” she cuts April off harshly.

“But he never laid down the law either did he?”

When Emma refuses to answer she puts her hand back onto her shoulder, “come on, here's your chance to show him. Even if he never finds out about this _you'll_ know." 

The memory of thinking almost the exact some thing flits across her mind without gaining purchase, “so a revenge fuck then,” the curse word sounds foreign coming from Emma's mouth but she has to call this what it is.

April drops the honeyed tone, shrugs and says, “I’ll take any kind of fuck I can get,” before shoving her flat on her back.

Emma watches her drop back to her knees and this time April doesn’t go soft and easy, just dips between her thighs, tugs off her underwear and takes a long thorough lick before settling into a more comfortable position and taking another. Emma can hear herself breathing loudly A very unladylike “ _guh_ ,” forces its way out of her mouth and her legs spread without a thought. She tries to keep holding onto the bench beneath her but her hands float up and to the back of Aprils head.

She touches the base of her skull gently, panting a little when the woman between her legs begins to suck, and gently runs her hand through the soft thin hairs she finds there. She tears her eyes open,  looks up to see a ceiling splattered with spitballs, turns her head away only to see an AC vent clogged with dust and finally decides to just close her eyes again.

She’s more turned on than she wants to be, feels a little out of control, and it doesn’t help matters when April starts to shake her head and use a little teeth. She lets out a sound then that’s less like the perfunctory sigh she gave Tanaka that one time she allowed him to kiss her and more like the lip biting groans she makes while she lay in her bed at night (eyes scrunched shut, muscles in her right arm burning) thinking about Wills tongue.

During her sweaty fantasies, the ones she’d never admit to having, April had never been like this. She’d expected loud moaning even though no one was touching her, long nails and a lot of hair tossing. She’d then expected April to produce a dildo from somewhere that they’d both suck for whatever reason; At least that’s what the girls in her copies of _Hot Chicks Lick 1-7_ (the ones that she had had stashed on her shelf behind _The World Without Us_ and her signed copy of  _Red Son_ ) always did. 

She hadn’t expected this clever competence, this cool efficiency. April does something with her tongue now that Emma can only think of as _splendid_ and her hips rear up. April laughs a little and she doesn’t even care about how undignified she must look. All she cares about is Aprils tongue and Aprils fingers and the perfect breath control April has honed into a weapon over her years of singing.

She can feel it happening too, the best kind of pressure building up low in her abdomen and she’s so desperate for it that it’s embarrassing but not enough to make her _not_ whine and push up into Aprils face begging for something more.

The other woman pulls back a little, ignores Emma’s whimper, licks two then three fingers and slides them inside of her. The entry’s a little sudden but Emma’s body obviously likes it because she just grabs the back of Aprils head, pushes it into her body, screws her eyes shut and tries not to make too much noise as warm waves of pleasure spread from Aprils mouth to the tips of Emma's toes and the very top of her head.

She rides it out for a minute, making much too much noise but not really caring, tastes blood and realizes she’s bitten through her lip but it doesn’t even hurt, every inch of her feels good. Weightless, like she’s just had an orgasm in outer space. The thought makes her smile as she lays across the bench, sweaty and gasping for breath.

She feels April hovering above her and her insides begin turning to liquid again, she gets ready to kiss her and return the favor when something is shoved in her face without warning. It takes Emma a moment to slough off the afterglow and realize what’s going on but when she does revulsion rolls through her like a wave.

It’s the strap.

Her body’s perfectly still for a second before the stench of axe body spray and days old ball sweat penetrate her mind and she starts twisting and struggling like a fish caught on a line. It should have been easy to shake the blond off (April _is_ only 5 feet) but she’s shocked by how strong she is. They tussle for a moment before Emma finally gets a hold of her arms and shoves the smaller woman away, sits up, scrubbing her face with a strangled scream and choking for breath, asks “why would you do that,” shrilly.

She knows her eyes are probably bugged half out of her skull by now with anger and surprise and when she looks up April just glances back coquettishly before dropping the offending material to the ground, “you told on me.”

Emma doesn’t say anything as her hands flutter around her face and she stares across the room in horror as April checks the fit of her shiny cowgirl costume and plops her hat back on her head at a jaunty angle, “I would stick around but I got a show to do.”

She’s walking from the room, wrapped in glory, when she stops and turns. She hesitates twice before saying, “you should go for it.”

“What,” Emma asks briskly.

“You know what.”

She did know what but she swallows instead of saying so.

April laughs at her non reaction but there’s an anxious edge to the sound now, “I mean, you’ve already had a jockstrap in your face. There’s nothing worse than that right?”

 _Yeah, rejection_ , but Emma doesn’t say that and Aprils suddenly soft tone makes her uncomfortable so she shoots, “what would you know about it,” back tightly.

The other woman’s expression cracks for an instant before becoming stony again, “Nothing obviously.”

They make a pointed effort not to look in the others direction while Emma pulls her dress back on with a downturned mouth, makes a mental note to destroy it later.

“But I do know that you like it a little rough. What would Will think about that?”

She spins toward her, eyes wide but there’s a gentle curve to Aprils mouth and Emma relaxes into their unspoken truce, “shut up.”

“I aso know that you have a little beauty mark on your...”

“Alright! What is this,” Emma cuts in, confused by the sudden shifts of Aprils mood, “are we friends now?”

April shrugs, asks, “friends with benefits?”

“Good bye April,” the red head replies with an eye roll and the other woman chuckles as she disappears through the door.

When she's finally left alone, Emma looks down into her lap and knows how she should feel: Angry. She should be frantically calling her insurance company to ask whether they will cover two full silk woods in one week and she _will_ do both of those things but Emma waits a moment, thinks about what just happened, feels herself flex and decides to enjoy this first.


	3. He Probably Says That To All The Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _Quinn Fabray/Noah Puckerman_  
>  Explicit - Pregnancy Sex]

She’s two weeks past her due date, sluggishly heavy with pregnancy and feeling absolutely awful  
  
At least that’s the excuse she uses when she accepts Puck invite for a massage instead of calling him on his obvious ploy to get her behind a closed door and in a horizontal position. She lays across his bed and five, even three, months ago, this would have been a dangerous position for her to be in. His mother and sister are gone on some errands and there’s no one here to keep them in line, but Quinn doesn’t need to worry about that now anyway. Her waist is so huge that the pair of jeans she’s wearing have an elastic waistband and that’s as good as a chastity belt to a boy like him.

She’s got nothing to fear from Noah Puckerman now.

She’s not sure why that knowledge isn’t making her feel better though. The bed dips under his weight as he moves beside her and she tenses up.

He pats her shoulder, “It’s alright baby, relax for me.”

Quinn realizes that that’s probably what he says to all the girls but she does it anyway. Lets him roll her half on her stomach and half on her side, spoons up behind her, raises up on his elbow and slips his free hand under her neck.

She swallows, asks, “is this really the best position for this,” and he just shrugs as he starts to rub her shoulder.

She doesn’t want to react but even though he isn’t really even trying the massage is starting to work. She feels herself loosening up, relaxes back into his body.

“You’re really uncomfortable huh?”

Quinn lets out a noise then that sounds too much like a moan but she doesn’t even care anymore. Finn hasn’t spoken to her since The Big Reveal, not that she can blame him, and her parents have been more distant then ever. Before today, she didn’t know how much she needed someone to just hold her and ask how she was doing, “yes.”

He lets his hand travel down her arm to the side of Quinn’s belly, slips it just barely under the hem and rubs a finger along the top of her jeans “she’s over due.”

“Two weeks,” Quinn drones miserably, “my lower back is killing me.”

His hands follow her words as he works the spot she mentioned, lets it dip lower than necessary into the back of her jeans and she should put a stop to this, she _needs_ to put a stop to this, but she can’t. Just enjoys it as he leans forward and she can feel his lips moving against her ear as he says, “you know what I’ve heard can help it get going?”

She shakes her head as he rubs her belly in counter clockwise circles, as he lulls her into complacency, “what?”

Puck leans in closer, nibbles the shell of her ear as he says, “sex,” and her eyes pop open.

 Suddenly, Quinn is wide-awake.

 She moves to get up but he gently contains her, asks, “what…WHAT Quinn,” but there’s a laughter in his voice that says he knows _exactly_ what. She breaks free after a small wrestling match and sits up, looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes, “don’t start with me Puck.”

He gives her that smile that always gets him whatever he wants, says, “lie back down.”

When she flashes him the eye again he put his hands up in surrender, “you want the rest of the massage right? I promise to stop. I was just playing.”

He wasn’t but she gets back into place anyway, saying no to temptation has never been Quinn’s strong suit. She gets back into position and he brings his hand up to her shoulder, starts trying to loosen the muscle. They say nothing for so long that when he starts to speak it startles her awake.

“You know, I was serious earlier.”

“’Huh?”

“About helping our little girl into the world.”

“ _My_ little girl,” she corrects instinctively even though they’d gotten past claims months ago.

“ _Our_ little girl.”

She’s about to say something else but he talks over her, “really Quinn. I know you think I’m a dog and I guess I am,” he says with a smile, “but if I can use the talents I’ve sharpened over 3 years of fucking to help my baby mama out goddammit I’m gonna try.”

“Puck I don’t…”

“Shhh, it’s alright,” and it’s for the best that he cut her off because she didn’t have anything else to say.

“Just relax alright. Enjoy it.”

She’s scared but nods and bites her bottom lip as he wedges his hand between her thighs. Rubs her roughly through the jean fabric and she pushes back into the cradle of his hips, “Puck.”

He doesn’t answer, takes the lobe of her ear into his mouth and skates his hand up and into her jeans. Not beneath her underwear though and wants to tell him it’s okay but something really sexy about this. About him touching her through a thin layer of cloth, about him feeling how wet she’s getting. She's so used to people giving her a wide berth, like the child growing inside of her is some kind of disease they can catch if they get too close, that she doesn't fight this like she should.

Quinn gives into it instead, opens her legs as much as she can and is surprised when she already feels herself coming. She groans, grabs onto his arm and pushes up into his grasp. Gasps as her body first clenches then releases and when she starts paying attention to the world around her again she can feel Puck breathing almost as deeply as she is.

He’s hard, Quinn can feel him against her back but she doesn’t know what to do about it. The room feels heavier now , tight with what just happened and what could happen next.

“Quinn…” he starts before she begins to talk over him.

“I don’t thin…”

She never finishes the thought though as he drags his hand back up her body and tugs down the neck of her shirt and bra. He runs his fingernail over her nipple and she can feel the curve of his mouth against the nape of her neck as he says, “come on, just let me put the tip in,” and even though ‘putting the tip in’ was what got them in all this trouble in the first place Quinn laughs because it really is pretty funny when you think about it.

“Shut up Puck.”

“It made you feel better though right?”

She shrugs with a smile, “I guess so.”

“Well let’s do this then.”

She tries to pull away, “I’m pregnant Puck,” and pulls her back, says, “so,” like he really doesn’t understand her issue with it.

“I’m fat,” and she knows she’s pouting but it’s how she feels.

“You’ve got meat on your bones,” he corrects and gives her hip a stinging slap, “your boobs are bigger too. What’s not to like?”

She rolls her eyes but can only barely keep the smile from her face, “this is a really dumb idea.”

He lets his hands wander lower across her belly before continuing, “No it isn’t! You can go get your Cheerios uniform, squeeze into it for me.”

“I will not” she replies a little sharply, still smarting over her ouster.

“Or not then,” he says and starts pulling down her jeans.

She catches his hand and this time he stops, leans over and asks, “you really don’t want to?”

When she hesitates, he slants his mouth over her own but backs off before she can start to reciprocate, “well help me get these off then.”

She doesn’t waver again.

Lifts her hips to shimmy out of the jeans and watches from under her lashes as he takes off his shirt and pants. She watches him for a minute before following suit with her shirt and bra and quickly getting back on her side. He moves into place behind her swiftly, raises her leg a little, licks three fingers and puts his hand back between her legs. Glides each digit into her one at a time until she’s rocking onto them when he stops suddenly.

She’s about to complain when she feels something bigger starting to push it’s way inside. Inch by inch, slower than what she’d thought he was capable of, slower than what she wants but Quinn knows they’re blindly feeling their way through this and doesn’t try to hurry him up yet.

She must have made a noise though because he stops short, breathing hard like he's just run a marathon, asks, “does this hurt,” and she can tell he’s trying to be thoughtful and gentle but he’s already started shallowly moving inside her. She grabs the wrist of the hand he has between her legs and moans, turns her head to the side and whispers, “no, it feels good.”

Puck looks down at her with a grin then, mimics lowly, “ _it feels good_ ,” and even though the cocky bustards back in full force and making fun of her a spark of heat races up her spine at his slow drawl.

He moves to lift her leg up higher over his and it’s a little awkward but they make it work. They're moving in tandem now like they've had more than one drunken experience together. Quinn reaches back and grabs his ass, encourages him to move faster and she can already feel twinges of pleasure building. The pregnancy has taken a lot from her: Her boyfriend, the cheerios, her popularity and her parents but one thing it’s made her is extremely orgasmic.

It’s almost worth the trade.

Puck pulls her leg up higher, thrusts harder and rubs her clit swiftly enough that Quinn’s already well on her way to seeing stars. He starts to pull back a little, maybe in an effort to try and make this last but she stutters, “keep going,” and she doesn’t have to say it twice.

She starts to come quickly, like always lately, and she hears his breath catch behind her as he clutches her close and goes over as well. They’re sweating and shaky and doing this might not have been the course of action but she really can’t find it in herself t regret it either. The knowledge that they didn’t use a condom flashes across her mind and causes momentary panic before she calms down.  
  
It’s not like she can get pregnant twice and she trusts that he wouldn't endanger the baby in any other way.

“You probably just gave her brain damage,” Quinn deadpans, reaching her hands over her head and stretching.

He chuckles a little, “no I didn’t,” and pushes the sweaty strands of hair out of her face, “she’ll be alright.”

They’re quiet for a moment as her heart beat slows back to normal. He puts his face into her neck, murmurs, “did you know that when you come the baby can feel it too?”

Quinn scrunches up her face, “that’s kinda creepy.”

“You think so,” he shrugs, “I think it’s pretty cool, it’s all just hormones.”

“Where’d you learn all this from anyway,” she asks after a moment.

“I’ve been reading up. Haven’t you?”

“Honestly, I’ve been trying to pretend this isn’t real for so long that it’s hard to get into the swing of it. I’m trying though.”

He doesn’t say anything and she feels good but her afterglow felt almost non-existent and even though she just came she’s wants to again. Wraps her leg around his thigh without thinking and starts rocking against him and when she looks up he’s looking back in surprise.

“Want another go?”

Her cheeks heat up but she nods yes and a wide grin takes over his face as he gets up on his knees and explains that, “I read that this is a good position for us,” when she looks at him curiously.

Quinn wants to ask him why he’s been reading up on possible positions for them but just shrugs instead, lets Puck help her up into a kneel with his front to her back and shivers a little when he moves his arm around to support her stomach and place her hand on the head board. He notices,  says with delight, “I love pregnant chicks,” and she still feels horrible and fat and it wasn’t really the nicest way to compliment her but it’s hard to remember why when he’s already pushing back inside of her.  
 


	4. The Letter Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray; slight Quinn Fabray/Noah Puckerman_  
>  Mature]

The first thing Quinn does when she gets home after getting cut from the squad is to yank her Letterman off the hanger and shove it as far back into her closet as she can get it.

She doesn't see it again for 3 weeks.

-

Quinn's wearing her pink dress today, the one she knows Rachel loves. Has the other girl up against the banister in the west stairwell during 3rd period. Rubs against her like a cat, winds her hair around her fist, pulls her head back and kisses her until Rachel has to push her away to breathe.

"What if someone sees," she asks, looking around suspiciously.

"Isn't that part of the fun?"

"You never thought so before."

Quinn rolls her eyes and flips her hair over her shoulder. "You coming over tonight?"

"What about your parents?"

"I'll deal with them."

The other girl tries to convince her otherwise but when Quinn slides her hand down the front of her skirt and touches her, just the way she knows she likes best, Rachel agrees to whatever Quinn wants.

-

As she walks away, Quinn knows there's something more going on between she and Rachel than stolen kisses when no one is looking and underhanded swipes when they are but she doesn't know what it is and it's not like she'll ever admit it anyway.

-

When she gets home that afternoon, Quinn pulls the Letterman out and hangs it on her closet door. She lies across her bed and stares at the thing as if it's a holy relic, something untouchable and awe-inspiring, her whole life from _before_ encased in one garment. She's so engrossed that she doesn't even hear the bell until there's a gentle knock on her door. When she opens it, Rachel and her mother are standing on the other side and they go into the living room.

She doesn't have the time to put the jacket back into the closet and by the third round of Wii Boxing she's forgotten all about it.

-

They wait until she's sure her parents are asleep before Quinn takes the other girls hand and leads her back into the dim bedroom. She takes down the side zip on her dress, toes off her sandals and helps Rachel do the same. Pushes her back onto the bed and does what she's been thinking about all day. Since she doesn't have to worry about being caught now, Quinn touches her gently, licks the line where Rachel's pelvis meets her thigh, reaches up and covers her mouth when she gets too loud.

The other girl sucks her digits between full, red, lips and it's moments like these that make it hard for Quinn to remember why they have to keep _this_ a secret.

-

Afterward as they lie in bed, sweaty and naked and exhausted, Quinn's half asleep when Rachel says something, "Huh?"

The other girl nudges her shoulder but Quinn doesn't open her eyes until the bed shifts and she reaches over to discover only a warm empty sheet. She opens her lids a slit to see Rachel looking at the jacket on the back of her door.

She feels like there's a brick on her chest as the brunette tugs it off the hanger and has it on one arm before she turns to see Quinn staring, asks, "You mind?"

She hesitates before giving her permission and watching Rachel model it in the mirror, it's blue with white sleeves and a big clothe M on the left breast.

"I've always wanted one of these things."

Quinn rolls onto her side and rests her head and hand, tries to look nonchalant as she stares at the back of Rachel's head, thinks about how beautiful she is and starts to sulk, "Why?"

"You know," Rachel says with a smile, "In _all_ old movies about high school there's some jock boyfriend who gives his girlfriend his Letterman." A dreamy look slides into place as she continues. "I know it's just Hollywood but…I kind of always wanted one."

"You don't have a jock boyfriend."

When she doesn't answer, Quinn looks up to find Rachel looking back at her in the mirror with that pouty, heartrending glance she gives so well.

"I have a jock girlfriend though."

Quinn ignores that, brings her eyes back down to her nails, "Ex-jock."

"Oh Quinn…," Rachel begins to coo and suddenly she can't stand to look at her in it. Look at her wrapped up and all of Quinn's failings so she moves off the edge of the bed and slinks up against her back, shushes her when she tries to speak.

"You know what it would mean if I gave you this jacket?"

Rachel starts to breathe harder. "That we were out in the open."

"Right," she says slowly. "That we were going steady."

Quinn moves her hand up and under the jacket, finds a nipple that's already half hard and gives it a tug. "You know what else it would mean?"

"What," Rachel asks, letting her head lull back to rest against her shoulder.

"That you'd wear my pin and we'd hold hands in the hall and you'd finally let me get you into the backseat at the drive-in."

She smiles and opens her eyes then, asks, "What if I didn't want to?"

"Well," Quinn purrs, "There are plenty of girls who'd jump on this in a minute."

Rachel's face darkens in arousal, "I'm sure."

She pulls away and moves to sit on the edge of her bed, "You'd have to make sure I stayed satisfied."

The other girl lets the Letterman fall from her shoulders and struts toward her, climbs up and straddles Quinn's lap, says, "I'll do my best," and kisses her senseless.

-

She shoves the jacket back into its hiding place the next day but it won't be forgotten. Keeps popping into her head when they're at school and Rachel's laughing with Finn or practicing a song or when she sees Puck looking at her ass.

They're dating now and it's stupid that she feels territorial when it was her idea to keep the whole thing casual in the first place but she does. It makes Quinn wants to grab Rachel and mark her in some way, leave a hickey, kiss her before homeroom, do _something_ so that everybody knows she's hers.

Quinn leaves another nasty comment on Rachel's YouTube channel instead.

It doesn't have quite the same effect as it used to though.

-

They circle one another for the next week, don't speak unless absolutely necessary and even then it's not about anything important. It's not about anything they actually want to talk about. This isn't the first time this has happened. Quinn has a habit of trying to hurt Rachel to keep them at a distance but this is the first time it's lasted this long. She's heard about Rachel and Puck's break-up and is actually going to smooth things over when she walks into the music room to see her and Finn. She's looking down into her lap and he's sitting close, their sides are touching and Quinn watches his hand move onto her bare knee almost as if it's in slow motion.

She strides toward them without a thought but a clear purpose and yanks Rachel up by the arm, snarls, "What are doing?"

"Quinn?!"

They ignore him as Rachel pulls from her grasp. "What!?"

Quinn crosses her arms over her chest. "What do think?"

"Nothing happened Quinn I swear," Finn says, tries to reach out to her but she shakes him off.

"I can't leave you alone for a second can I," she asks Rachel with a bitter laugh. "I knew I couldn't!"

"I didn't do anything," Rachel declares, exasperated.

"You didn't _do_ anything," she repeats, moves toward the other girl only to have Finn pull her back. "I just saw you!"

" _I_ wouldn't cheat!"

Quinn would though, already has actually, and something about Rachel's voice as she denies it sets her off.

She pulls against Finns hold. "Of course you would because you're a slut Rachel! A boyfriend thieving slut!"

As the words leave her mouth she knows that she's gone too far but she can't stop herself, it's like she's not even in her body anymore.

"Stop it Quinn," Finn yells but she can't take her eyes away from Rachel's suddenly blank face and something inside her goes cold as the other girl turns and quietly leaves the room.

-

They're sitting where he and Rachel were earlier as Finn tries to explain himself. "She was just helping me with a song," he says with conviction, "I shouldn't have put my hand on her knee but I swear that nothing's happening between us Quinn."

She's barely listening though, puts her elbow on her thigh and rests her chin against it. Looks at Finn and says, "I know you aren't," before looking off into the distance.

She feels bad for what she said but doesn't know a way out of it. Decides to go by Rachel's house tonight and make nice.

It's worked every other time.

-

Quinn's wearing Rachel's favorite dress again as she pushes the bell twice and is greeted not a minute later by one of her dads. He ushers her inside, gives her a macadamia and white chocolate chip cookie and tells her Rachel's room is the first door on the left before disappearing back into the kitchen. She straightens her back as she walks over and gives it a light knock.

"Come in!"

She pushes the door open and peeks around the side to see a canopy bed and bright colors on the wall. The room's immaculate, she expected that, and Quinn steps inside gingerly. Rachel's on the computer, and doesn't look up to see who's there before asking, "Is dinner ready daddy?"

"Should be," Quinn says as she turns toward her, startled. "It smelled really good when I was coming in."

She watches as Rachel schools her face into indifference and moves to stand up. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she says like it should be obvious, sits the cookie on the edge of her dresser and licks her fingers. "I wanted to make sure things were alright between us."

"We're fine," Rachel says offhandedly and leans against the wall, crosses her arms over chest but her mannerisms are starting to make Quinn nervous.

"Well that's good. You know I want to be with you."

"No you don't Quinn," she sputters loudly with the same sudden veracity she showed during the celibacy meeting. "You want someone you can beat up! Someone you can use to make yourself feel better and then throw away when they're no longer convenient!"

Quinn's shocked silent and Rachel's waiting for her to say something but she's coming up blank, reverts to their old script because it's tried and true and she doesn't know what else to do. She smiles coquettishly, runs her hands along the skirt and asks, "Don't you like my dress," like they weren't just arguing.

A look crosses the brunettes' face that tells Quinn it was the wrong response and her smile falters but she's too far gone too stop now. "I wore it for you."

"You look beautiful Quinn," she says and it scares her how resigned Rachel's voice suddenly sounds. "You always do."

She hesitates before moving forward and putting her hand on the other girls shoulder. "Look…"

"You know," she says with a look Quinn has put on her face more times than she wants remember. "You've always tried to publicly humiliate me but I thought…," she shakes her head and changes tack, "I thought things were different when they obviously aren't."

"Rachel?"

She pulls out from under her hand, and cuts her off, straightens her spine. "I want you to know that I appreciate every private moment we shared and that you'll always be a friend Quinn."

She sits back at the computer, demurely tucking her skirt under her thighs and stares at the screen. "But that's all. Now leave my room please."

-

As she stumbles from the house Quinn thinks it can't get any worse than this.

She's wrong.

-

She packs her bags after being kicked out of her house, the only home she's ever known, Quinn is amazingly dry eyed. She can't bring herself to cry anymore.

Finn drives her to his house without a word.

-

She's been there for a week and the house is so quiet she can't stand it anymore. The way everyone tip toes past one another, the way Finn looks at her like she's giving him this great gift. Quinn gets into her car and starts to drive. Past the school and the Wal-Mart and when she looks up she finds herself at Rachel's house.

Quinn stares at the white one story with trepidation before getting out and knocking on the door. She's so tense she almost feels faint. She reaches out to knock again when the same father from before answers the door with a tight smile. "Hello Quinn."

She takes an unconscious step back because something in his voice tells her he knows about everything. About the baby, and the lies, and what happened with his daughter. The last thing these people probably want is a teenage mother sniffing around their star in training.

She starts twice before getting her greeting out. "Good afternoon Mr. Berry, I was wondering if Rachel was home?"

His eyes shift to the side before he looks at her again with a smile. "I'm sorry honey but she's not home yet would you like to leave a message?"

"No sir. Thanks though."

Quinn gets back in her car and looks at the house to see the curtain in Rachel's room twitch before she grits her teeth and drives away.

-

When she gets to Finn's house she knows some decisions about her future have to be made. She can try and keep this going for as long as possible, delay the hurt that she seems more and more incapable of not inflicting everyday or she can come clean. Deal with his anger and everyone else's opinions on what she did wrong and how much of a bitch she is.

Quinn touches her temple and gets up to pull the letterman out of her bag. It's the only thing she isn't confused about and she's got the perfect place for it.

-

She tells Finn the truth about her baby on a rainy afternoon 3 days later.

He's facing away from her when he asks, "Why?"

"I don't know. I was drunk and that's a horrible excuse but…"

"No," he says flatly. "Why did you tell me?"

She stares at the back of his head and hesitates before saying, "Because you're a good person and you deserve to know the truth."

"But I didn't deserve for you not to cheat on me with Puck of all people?"

She swallows and tries to catch her breath. "Please listen. I'm so sorry Finn, I've never regretted anything more in my life than that night."

He doesn't respond and she tries to engage him, says, "Finn please…"

"You took my baby and my best friend from me on one day. Forgive me if I can't really look at you."

She knows why he said it, if their situations were reversed she'd have done worse, but it still feels like a punch to the gut.

"Finn," Quinn starts shakily, holding back tears and unconsciously rubbing her belly. "I know you don't want to hear anything right now but I know how much you love _her_ so I hope you know that you can always be a part of her life if you want to be."

He doesn't say anything so she makes her way up the stairs to pack her things without being asked and is out the door in 15 minutes.

It hasn't taken Quinn long to become a pro at disappearing.

-

Puck's family takes her in afterwards and she stays even though she can see the _shiksa_ _harlot!_ his mother wants to scream every time they run across one another in the house's narrow halls. She's got nowhere else to go. She keeps to herself mostly. Plays with his little sister every now and then and tries to avoid the searching look in Puck's eyes when he gazes at her. She calls Rachel about once a week but she never picks up and Quinn can't bring herself to approach her at school so she waits until night fall. That's when she pulls off the clothes that are becoming too tight and lays back.

Thinks of Rachel on their last night together, of scarlet lips and skin and tongues and sweat, and feels lost.

-

She wakes up that night to find an arm around her waist and warm body spooned against her back.

"What are…," she starts sleepily, not afraid, just curious about his presence and trying to make sure she keeps the sheet against her chest.

Puck cups her chin moves toward her mouth, says, "Shhh," before touching her lips with his own.

She feels herself beginning to sink into it for a moment and she wants to let him take control, to make her forget everything but that's what got them here in the first place and it doesn't feel the same anymore anyway. All she can think of is him kissing Rachel and even that fades to just the other girls face.

Quinn pushes him back and takes a breath, whispers, "Noah…," and he pulls back with a smile and a knowing look.

"Uh oh, here it comes."

She sighs and puts both hands on his chest, not trying to push him away but needing room. "You're going to be an awesome father and you've been an amazing friend but I can't do this."

"Finn?"

"No!"

And she can see the confidence and speed with which she answered has caught his attention. "It's someone else though."

It's not a question and she doesn't even try to answer, just hugs him close.

-

Quinn isn't an idiot.

The missed phone calls, the bobs and weaves to avoid her detection in the halls and the carefully maintained distance in Glee… she gets it! She just isn't willing to respect Rachel's call for distance anymore so when Quinn sees her standing on the side of the bleachers on her way to her car she changes course and walks out to meet her.

Stands behind her waiting to be acknowledged and just starts to speak when she isn't. "Still avoiding me huh?"

"Just looking for some alone time."

"Would you stop this already Rachel? Haven't you made me suffer enough?" It's a petty selfish thing to say but she's feeling petty and selfish.

"How about how much you made Finn suffer?"

Quinn pulls back at the mention of what she did, at the memory of his cool receptions ever since. "Why don't you just worry about us?"

"How can I when you keep things from me Quinn," she asks, arms defensively crossed over an orange sweater. "How could you have not told me about that?"

"I never even told Puck," she exclaims. "He figured it out on his own."

Rachel looks at her with narrowed eyes and a shake of the head before turning her back.

"Look," Quinn requests desperately, wraps her fingers tenderly around the other girls' upper arm.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't want it to be true and if I started telling people that Puck was the daddy I wouldn't be able to lie to myself anymore."

She gives a sardonic bark of laughter. "For a moment there I actually almost had myself fooled."

She feels Rachel loosening up, steps closer and decides to push a little further. "Let me give you a ride home."

"I'm not sure that's for the best Quinn."

"Come on Rachel! I have something for you and it's not like I have a dungeon in my basement I can drag you into."

The brunette finally meets her eyes with a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry about everything Quinn."

She shrugs off the fear and uncertainty about her situation and gives the other girl a smile. "It's fine; it's not your fault."

She rubs the toe of her shoe in the dirt, asks, "So do you want that ride or not?"

-

They speak a little but once the drive starts a comfortable silence falls over them and she when she pulls up to Rachel's house it's quicker than what she'd have liked. The silence between them is getting heavy now with the things Quinn wants to say and she decides today is a day for courage. Quinn goes for it.

"I know I was never the nicest to you Rachel and I called you a slut but I'm the slut."

"No you're not."

"What would call a girl who dates one guy, gets pregnant by his best friend but is in love with someone else entirely."

She isn't even looking at her but she feels Rachel tense at the mention of the L word.

"The girl her boyfriend wanted to be with actually," Quinn continues.

"He never wanted to be with me."

"Of course he did and he would've been but I got knocked up." She feels her eyes welling. "I know it's completely self centered and I should be happy that he was happy thinking about you but mostly it just hurts."

Rachel puts her hand over Quinn's on the wheel and she feels herself exhale, it's the first time she's done that in weeks. "I think that's human for you to feel that way."

"You told your dads about us." Quinn's so shocked by the question she can't really believe the words came out of her mouth until Rachel nods slowly.

She moves her hand back to her lap. "They wanted to know what was going on with me. Are you mad?"

She shrugs. "So I guess they don't want you to be seen with me now huh?"

"No," she answers softly. "They love you already."

Quinn squeezes the wheel tight under hands to try and control her sudden urge to hug the girl next to her, to cry until there are no tears left.

She snaps out of her melancholy mood when Rachel opens her door and reaches back into the foot well behind the passenger seat. "I almost forgot your gift."

When she moves back into place she has a white box with a pink bow on it and Rachel smiles broadly as she hands it over, starts to tear into it when Quinn stops her. "Don't do that until you get inside."

Rachel shoves the top back down and gets out. Quinn doesn't drive off until the front door closes behind her.

-

As Quinn walks into school she ignores the whispers and side eyes and goes directly to her locker when she sees Kurt coming over through eyes narrowed with suspicion. They've never been the friendliest with one another and since the truth about her kids parentage came out that's doubled but he doesn't look like he wants to start anything today. He just looks curious.

Kurt leans against the locker, looks at Quinn strangely, asks, "Is Rachel wearing your Letterman?"

She closes the locker door slowly, looks at him with wide, wet, eyes and a smile. "Is she?"

"I saw you two yesterday," he says after a beat. "You were walking through the parking lot. I saw you guys."

She doesn't really know what he's trying to say and, if she's being honest, she doesn't really care, just maneuvers around him and through the early morning crowded halls to the music room where Rachel goes to practice every morning. Pulls open the door with both hands and sees Rachel looking back at her with a green sweater, a green plaid skirt, and a blue and white jacket with a big felt M over the right breast and Quinn's life is hell right now but she has Rachel and that makes everything that much more bearable.


	5. You'd Think This Was A Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _Emma Pillsbury/Will Schuester_  
>  Explicit - Adultery ]

The first time he sees her is in the parking lot after her first day of school. She’s on the phone speaking in low rapid tones to someone about being late to a meeting when he notices her car is on a flat. Being the gentleman he is, Will waits until she hangs up, looking upset, before he makes his presence known.  
  
“Need any help with that?”

She turns toward him slowly, “excuse me?”

“With your tire,” he starts and continues with, “I’m the Spanish teacher,” at her suspicious look.

“I didn’t see you at the faculty meeting.”

“I had some errands to run but I know you’re the new counselor here.”

She still doesn’t look completely convinced as he explains further, “I overheard some of your conversation and I can help you out if you’re in a hurry.”

She doesn’t seem excited by the idea but she opens the door and pops the trunk anyway, “I have a spare tire, a jack and a wrench…”

“That’s perfect,” he says quickly, taking his jacket off and rolls his sleeves up. He moves next to the rear of the car, opens the trunk to see gleaming tools tucked away and pulls everything he’ll need out.

It takes a little longer to change the tire than he’d thought it would but he gets it done and puts her tools back where he found them. Puts the flat tire in her trunk and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. When he looks back at her she cuts her eyes away quickly and he’s momentarily surprised by the fact that she’d been staring at him.

“I wish I’d had some gloves to offer you,” she says, motioning to the streaks of oil on his hands.

He smiles, says, “it’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and starts to walk back to his car before stopping and coming back, “I’m Will Schuester by the way,” and reaching out his hand for a shake.

After a second, she grasps it in her own, “Emma Pillsbury.”

They look at one another quietly for a beat too long before he turns to walk away. When he looks back she’s gazing down at the hand he shook with a grimace. Opens up her purse and pulls out a wet nap and some anti-bacterial, begins what looks like a cleaning ritual.

He feels as though he should be offended, the only reason he’s dirty is because he took the time to help _her_ , but he isn’t. In that instant something inside him smoothly clicks into place and Will realizes then that he wants to see this woman messy, that he wants to make her sweat.

-

They dance together at the faculty Christmas party later that year.

She’s wearing a black, a-line, knee length dress with a Santa hat on her head and has a glass of champagne in one hand. She’s a little tipsy, laughing a little too loud and dancing closer than she probably would have if she’d been sober but he’s a little drunk too and she feels good in his hands.

Terri begged off coming at the last minute (something about the craft room) and so he spins Emma to the delight of the crowd that has surrounded them with no hesitation. Will has one arm around her waist, nudges a knee between her legs and dips her back deeply before pulling her up again and the crowd claps loudly, laughs and snaps photos, and they’re face to face. Breathing hard and smiling, elated at the show they’ve put on.

Afterwards, he walks her to her car and smiles when she turns back to look at him bashfully.

“I had a lot of fun Will.”

He’s supposed to say the same and let her go but, without second-guessing himself (without thinking of the consequences), he grabs her and spins them so he’s up against the driver’s side door, kisses her soundly instead. Bends his knees and runs his hand up a length of leg covered by first stocking then lace then warm skin. Straightens his spine and pulls her up onto her tip toes, curls her leg around his waist and when she moves back a little, opens her mouth to say something (like _stop_ or _take me home_ or _touch me_ ) he puts his lips against hers and slips his tongue inside.

Grinds his hips into hers shamelessly and repositions his thigh between her legs so she can do the same because this _has_ to happen now. It has to happen while they can still blame it on the champagne or the party or anything other than their own desires. While they still have the privilege of pretending that whatever’s going on between them isn’t actually happening.

He pulls back after a moment, waits for her to slap him but she doesn’t. Just turns to unlock the door, misses the key hole twice before she’s able to unlock it. He moves over as she gets inside and says, “goodbye Will,” without looking at him before driving away.

-

When she comes into his room after school that Monday he takes a breath and gets ready for what’s sure to be an uncomfortable conversation. He’s gone over this in his head all weekend and begins to launch into it, “Emma…,” when she cuts him with a sudden kiss.

It’s awkward and wonderful, gentle tentative pecks of someone not quite sure where they stand and he reciprocates, holds her close until she leans back to take a breath. Touches the side of his face and whispers, “I don’t care,” like the words are painful, “I don’t care.”

-

They don’t discuss further what’s going to happen between them because they don’t have to, they _know_. Will and Emma gravitate toward empty spaces during the day, exchange delicate kisses, guarded caresses, cautious glances and it’s exciting too. More electrifying than anything and she’s so beautiful, all red hair and big eyes and blushed cheeks and as Will moves from her mouth to the curve of her chin, to the soft spot behind her ear where he can feel her heart beating, he thinks he wants to touch her in other, secret places.

-

He slips his hand under her skirt and between her legs in the back row of a movie theater one afternoon.

She gasps lowly but doesn’t move to push him away and so he goes further, scratches his nails up the delicate skin of her inner thigh. Turns his head to the side so he can look at her before letting his fingers drift up further and encounter cool silk. She pushes her hips forward and leans her head back against the seat, spreads her legs a little and he smiles. Doesn’t go with his impulse to pull the material to the side and touch her (to feel hot damp flesh to his callused fingers) but lightly brushes the back of his knuckles against her instead.

Just enough to get her interested but nearly enough to get her off.

Her eyelids are slung low soon enough, her mouth partially open and he knows he’s practically glaring at her but he can’t stop, moves to pull her skirt up higher (so he can see everything) when she grabs his wrist.

“People are going to see.”

He nods and since she’s spread her own jacket out to sit on, he takes his jacket off the chair next to them and throws it over her lap. Moves into a more comfortable position, turns his body in toward hers and throws one arm over the back of her seat before touching her again. He doesn’t try to tease her this time, just slips his hand underneath the waist band of her underwear and hones in on what’ll make her feel best. Glides his hand lower to gather the required wetness needed to help smooth his way.

Since he can’t ask what she likes, he experiments with different ways to touch her and closely watches her responses. Rubs first harder than softer, moves vertically before stroking her in a tight, jerky, circle and she grabs the back of his shirt and pushes her hips at him then so he keeps it up. She obviously likes this best.

He wants to watch her go over but when she moans, “Will,” lowly like she wants more he slips his hand to the back of her neck and slants his mouth across hers. Kisses her with all the frustration he feels and doesn’t stop until he hears, “aren’t you two a little old for this?”

They break apart at the giggles that follow the comment and see the lights are up and the credits are rolling, the theatre’s deserted. She moves from under the jacket which has already slipped badly, he’s pretty sure whoever walked by knew exactly what they were doing but he doesn’t mention it. Just backs off and tries to get his wits about him. She puts her clothes back in order and clears her throat to get his attention, offers a wet nap.

“What?”

She gets redder as she explains, “your hands…”

He looks down at tacky fingers and nods, puts the digits in his mouth thoughtlessly before taking what Emma offers and when he looks up she’s staring back with pointed desire. He looks back at her and thinks maybe he want her more than he’s ever wanted anyone in his life but as she moves across the armrest and kisses him he stops thinking about anything that doesn’t have to do with Emma’s skin, or Emma’s lips, or Emma’s hands.

-

When Terri gets pregnant, Will never even considers breaking it off. He and Emma are already well past the point of no return.

-

He wants to have her in her wedding dress.

She’s against it at first but it doesn’t take much to convince her. A gentle touch here, harder stroke there, a practiced curl of his tongue and she’s willing to give it a try. He comes back into the room, after a shower with the special soap she gave him to use, naked except for a white cotton robe. She’s stripped the bed of everything but the fitted sheet and he sits his clothes in a neat pile on her dresser.

“You out there Will?”

He turns to the closed door of her walk-in closet and first nods before saying, “yeah I’m here.”

She steps out in the gown in a minute later, hands clutched in front of her primly and he looks at her with what’s probably a stupid smile but he can’t wipe it off his face.

“Emma…” and he wants to say _I’m gonna fuck you, don’t marry him, Oh God I love you,_ but he says, “you look beautiful,” instead because they don’t say those things to one another and It’s easier this way.

She blushes a little and thanks him, crosses her arms over her chest and licks her lips as he moves forward, wraps his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her closer and all they do for the next ten minutes is kiss. They’ve never had the time to truly enjoy this before (they have to take what they can get fast) but he makes the time now. Glides his hand down the center of her back, walks her back until her knees hit the bed and she sits down on the edge.

He smiles and keeps her eyes as he unties his robe’s belt, tugs it off and he likes the way she can’t keep her gaze on his face anymore. It’s vain but he works hard on his body and he likes that she seems to like it. He drops to his knees and puts his hand in the center of her chest, pushes her back gently onto her forearms.

Will takes a minute to drag his hands down the satin of her dress, the very same gown she’s going to wear when she marries another man (his friend for God’s sake) and lets his hands wander underneath when he reaches the hem. When he looks up her eyes are at half-mast already and it makes it hotter that she knows what he’s going to do. The dress is up to her mid thighs by the time he reaches her underwear and pulls them down and off her legs. Grabs her thighs and puts her legs over his shoulders, tugs her forward until her ass is almost hanging off the edge and shoves her dress up around her hips.

He takes a moment and parts her with his thumbs before leaning forward with a stiff lick. She makes a tight sound and when he stops licking and starts sucking the sound gets louder. The backs of her legs are clammy with sweat as she pushes up against him, asks for more and he obliges. Works three fingers inside of her and moves them to beat of his tongue.

He runs his free hand up her body, catches her nipple between a thumb and forefinger and gives it a roll and she tightens her thighs around him. Starts to come with a low gasp that sexier than anything and he licks her until she has to push him away. He doesn’t give her much time to recover though, just helps her up and out of the gown, lays it over the back of a chair because he knows that’s how she’d want it. She tugs the veil off and sits it on the bedside table, kneels in the center of the bed and he climbs on, mimics her position.

“The first time I touched you you were wearing thigh highs,” he whispers, pulling at the white lace tops.

“They make me feel sexy,” she murmurs back, runs the tips of her fingers down his chest and takes his cock in-between her hands.

He’s breathing harder already even though she isn’t doing anything, puts his hand on her shoulder to help steady himself, “you are sexy.”

She smiles a little but doesn’t look up just yet, brings a hand to her mouth, licks the palm and pulls it along his length roughly. He’d expected her to be more gentle, tentative even but she isn’t. She touches him the way he touches himself ( _focused,_ with _intent_ ) and he moves closer. The movement catches her attention and he lets his eyes hold her gaze. Puts his hand on her wrist and tries to guide her into slower strokes so she doesn’t push him over too soon but she shakes him off and speeds back up, runs her thumb over the head to gather the moisture building there. Reaches back between his thighs and gives his balls a squeeze when he stops her with a gasp.

“Will…”

He doesn’t wait for her to finish, just pushes her onto her back and she lets out a gust of air as she hits the mattress. She tries to roll away but he traps her between his arms and leans down to kiss her into submission. She gives it easily enough, moans into his mouth and throws her arms over his shoulders, crosses her wrists behind his head and he lets himself settle against her. Pulls one of the cups of her bra down and moves to nuzzle against it. Nips a quickly hardening nipple between his two front teeth and listens to her moan.

He lets her free reluctantly and moves down a little, puts her left leg over his shoulder before moving back up and starting to push inside of her. He can hear her breathing hard against his ear and her nails are digging into his shoulders but he doesn’t mind, all he can think about is _this_. How slick her body is against his, about how much he just wants to _slam_ (start fucking hard and fast) inside but he goes slow instead.

Who knows when Will will have this again, he tries to enjoy it while it lasts.

Emma’s eyes have slipped closed and she curls her other leg around his waist as her hands skid down to his hips to try and tug him closer. He doesn’t budge though, doesn’t heed her keens for more even though they make his skin tight with want and when his hips hit hers he stills for a moment (This is his first time inside her, his _first_ ) before starting to move.

He goes steadily, gets up onto his forearm for more leverage and moves against her harder. He tries to memorize everything about her. How she scrunches up her face, how tightly her eyes are closed, how she makes a low whine whenever pushes as deep inside of her as he can get and rears up so he can’t get too far when he pulls out.

He reaches his hand between them, moves his fingers across her clit and watches her mouth open on a silent O of pleasure and even when he follows after her Will never closes his eyes; he wants to remember every moment.

Just in case.

-

After he finds out what Terri’s done, he goes to see her.

“I wish I would’ve met you first.”

“…Will.”

“Yes?”

“Be quiet.”

It's foolish to want something that’ll never be.

-

They decided to move the wedding back and he watches Emma and Ken share their first kiss as man and wife a month later with a blank face. She smiles at the other man shyly and he wants to catch her when she’s alone. Wants to make her remember what he did to her in this very dress, slip his hand inside the bodice, confuse her, take some of the memories she’ll have of this day for himself but he doesn’t.

They turn toward their family and friends with big smiles and soak up cheers and well wishes as they walk back down the aisle.

Will wants her to have _this_ more.

 


	6. Take A Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _April Rhodes/Will Schuester_  
>  Teen]

April saunters back into town 3 months after his divorce has been finalized and 6 months after he and Emma broke it off. Will feels as though he’s been put through a blender; tender and weary and torn and when she walks up to him in the halls of McKinley with a big smile and 3 heavy bags he offers her the spare room in what used to be his and Terri’s place (before she left to, “start fresh,” as she put it) without a question.

He doesn’t think he can stand one more day of living in that silent apartment.

-

He doesn’t really ask her why she’s here for a month, he’s just grateful for her presence. The loud music she has blasting when he comes through the door in the evenings, the way she chatters at him non-stop when they share dinner, the way he sometimes walks in on her watching Lifetime movies in the middle of the night when he goes to get a glass of water.

He’s sitting next to her on such an occasion (They’ve just finished _My Lover, My Stepson_ and _Gospel of Deceit_ is starting) when he gets around to it.

She takes a breath before answering, “I went to Branson like I said I would and it was just…” she stops to search for the right word, “a bunch of burnt out talented drunks.”

He narrows his eyes and grins crookedly, “isn’t that you?”

April laughs, “it _was_. Haven’t you noticed I haven’t been drinking as much?”

He had but hadn’t felt it was his place to comment on it, “yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“Well I looked at those guys and I thought, ‘is this how I look to people,’” she shakes her head, “old and bitter? Branson just kind of lost its appeal after that so I packed and came back home. I don’t know what I expected when I went back to the school Will but I want to say thank you for letting stay with you. I’ve already got two clients for voice lessons and I’m trying to pick up a job.”

“Wait,” Will says, “you’re giving voice lessons _and_ looking for a job?”

This is the first he’s heard of either endeavor.

She nods, pulls her knees up to her chest and he finally notices what she’s wearing, a pair of little white shorts and a strappy tank. He also notices that her current position shows all of her exposed skin off better than her prior one, “I’ll be outta your hair soon.”

He tries to speak but can’t and clears his throat as he sits back, finally replies, “don’t hurry away, I like having you here.”

She smiles wider and nods her head, shushes him as the next movie starts.  
  
He stares at the screen without watching, this is the first time Will has looked at her since she’s gotten back and thought: Sex.

After this, he kind of can’t _stop_ thinking about it.  
  
-  
  
All the things she’s been doing since showing up suddenly take on a new dimension. When she cooks him dinner or barges into his bathroom (no matter if he’s in the tub or not) to blow-dry her hair without blowing the fuse box, when she looks over her shoulder at him with that secret smile.  
  
Sometimes he'll wander into her room when she's out and touch the bottles of perfume lined up across her bureau, stare at the bed she sleeps in every night in the mirror above it with with the kind of fascination he felt when he was 15 and tracking her across the cafeteria.  
  
He tries to chalk the whole thing up to the almost year long celibacy he's had to endure, Terri hadn't really been into it toward the end for obvious reasons and he and Emma never got that far, but honestly...he knows it's something else.  
  
When she gets home later that night, smiling over picking up a new voice student, he feels guilty. Makes a promise to stop going through her things. To stop perving on her and whatever else it is he's doing later that night in bed. Runs through all the reasons why it would never work out between them and falls asleep sure that his decision and his will to follow through is strong.   
  
-   
  
Will finds out just how weak he is less than three weeks later.  
  
-  
  
He's getting out of the tub when she bursts into his bathroom, blow drying cord trailing behind her, and stops cold at the naked, dripping sight of him. He's frozen for a moment before the cool air from his bedroom reminds him of his present state  and he makes a high pitched sound. Grabs his towel off the bar, wraps it around his hips and mutters, "could you knock April," shrilly.  
  
"I'm sorry," she replies without even trying to sound sincere, "don't worry though, I've seen a lot that look just like it."  
  
He glances down when she motions to his towel before groaning and pulling it tighter. She laughs then and plugs in the blow dryer as he tries to squeeze by her and out the door but then he catches a whiff of the scent she keeps in the squat round bottle on her dresser and she's wearing a salmon colored version of the nightclothes she was in that evening on the couch and she's all warm and he's pulling her to him before he can remember all reasons he thought doing just this would be a very bad idea.  
  
She doesn't really react at first, doesn't kiss him back or push him either so Will pulls her closer by the nape of her neck. Lets his thumb migrate to the indentation under her chin and tilts her head back. Slips his tongue between her lips and she starts reciprocating. Gets up on her tip toes and wraps her hands around his shoulders.  
  
His hair is still wet and it's dripping water across his face but he ignores it, walks her backwards into the bedroom before breaking away for a breath. He looks at her face (blushed and beautiful) before letting his eyes wander to the front her shirt. It's wet from his body and sticking to her skin and the thought that if she was wearing white he'd be able to see right through it makes him push her back onto his bed.   
  
The towel starts to slip and he pulls it back into place before climbing over her and taking her lips back . Before reaching down to tweak a nipple he can already feel straining through the fabric of her shirt.  
  
"What happened with Emma?"  
  
The question throws him and he stills before starting again, asks "huh," distractedly.  
  
"You've told me what happened with Terri," she stops on a moan before continuing, "but you've never said anything about Emma," breathlessly.  
  
"I don't know," he responds between nips to her bottom lip, "the usual."  
  
She spreads her legs and leads him into the cradle of her hips, "what's the usual?"  
  
He shakes his head and pulls back a little, closes his eyes, "it was bad timing for us."  
  
When he opens them again she's looking at him strangely, "what is it?"  
  
"You're not ready."  
  
"What?"  
  
She shakes her and tries to get up but he doesn't let her, "what do you mean?"  
  
"You're not ready to be with me yet."  
  
"I'm ready for _this_!"  
  
There's a roaring quiet after his admission and he knows he's misspoken as soon as the words leave his mouth. Tries to take them back but the blank look on her face tells him that it's useless, he gets up and leaves. Decides he'll talk to her in the morning when every thing's cooled down.  
  
-  
  
When he wakes up she's gone.   
  
He doesn't see her for four days and Will can't escape the thought that he's had three women in his life in the past ten months and he hasn’t been able to make any of them happy.  
  
-  
  
She comes back when she's ready and walks into the house like she walked into the school that day (it feels like forever ago) like she belongs here, like it's her domain. This time when he doesn't ask why she's here it isn't because he's just happy to have company. He doesn't ask because he's worried about her answer.  
  
He thinks she might not bring it up again until there's a soft knock on his door and he hears it open one night. Will sits up, eyes blurry with sleep, to see April standing in his threshold in a white baby doll nightie. He doesn't breathe while she walks toward him and climbs up onto the side of the bed without a word. She just looks at him for a moment before laying back and rolling onto her side facing away from him. He stares at her back and waits but all he can hear is her breath slowly evening out toward sleep.  
  
Will isn't completely sure what's happening but he lays back down as well, puts one hand close to her back for fear that she'll disappear in the night again and lets his eyes flutter closed.  
  
-  
  
When he wakes up the next day he's spooned up against her back, one arm is curled beneath his head while the other is thrown low across her middle. Her night gown has ridden up to her waist during the night and when he looks down his hand is cradling a naked thigh beneath a pair of striped pink panties. Will pulls away and the sudden motion wakes her up. April rolls onto her back with a yawn, notices how disheveled she is and pulls her gown back into place like it's no big deal so it isn't anymore.  
   
"You were right," he says, suddenly afraid that fear and keeping quiet will deny him more mornings of seeing her like this, "I wasn't ready to give you what you deserved that night but I want to be."  
  
"Will...," she rasps but he shushes her.  
  
"Me and Emma...I really did want it to work with her but it just wasn't right. We got too serious too fast and I don't want that to happen with you so we'll go slow and we'll take our time."  
  
He stares at her face like he's never seen her before, "I've wanted you since I was 15 years old. Since the first time I saw you."  
  
She still looks vague from sleep but she smiles and curls up facing him.  
  
"Why did you come back," he asks, needing to know.  
  
"Because I want us to work more than I want to save face," she reaches up and touches a curl of his hair, "I wish I had paid more attention to you back then."  
  
He returns her smile and puts his hand back on her hip,  pulls her closer, "it's okay, you've got me now."


	7. God Hates Fangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray_  
>  Alternate Universe - True Blood Fusion  
> Explicit - Drug Use]

Despite what pundits frothing at the mouth are screaming and teenage posers who feel the need to dye their hair black and paint their lips red as currants before going to dark back alley clubs in Manhattan would have one believe; Quinn doesn’t think the world has really changed that much since Vampires decided to make themselves known.

People still die; only sometimes, they happen to be found missing around ten pints of blood, if they’re found at all, and that’s not too different from normal either. Quinn glances at the clock- Rachel should be home any minute-and makes a concentrated effort to get her hands to stop shaking. She isn’t interested in being turned or even in becoming a fang banger but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious about them.

She’d even danced with one once.

They’d been out at a club when she felt someone sidle up behind her on the dance floor. She’d tried to move away, Rachel wasn’t always the most trusting about others’ motives and Quinn hadn’t been looking forward to rousing her ire, but the person behind an slipped their arm around her waist and pulled her back into the cradle of her body. Quinn had cut her eyes across the floor to see Rachel laughing with a tall red-headed girl, paying her no mind at all, and she began to relax.

Leaned back into a body as cool as the others around them were hot.

She’d startled when she realized what was happening, had tried to pull away again but they gently guided her back toward them. Let a frigid thumb find the inch of skin visible between the waistband of her pants and the hem of her shirt.

“You’re hot,” a deep feminine voice had whispered against her ear and Quinn thought she knew what she meant until the woman pushed her hair aside and cupped the back of her sweaty neck. Quinn had to stop herself from groaning at her touch. It had felt almost as good as jumping into a pool on a sunny day.

She’d shifted her gaze slightly to the side and was barely able to make out the sharp blade of a brown shoulder, the curve of the woman’s jaw and a plump bottom lip opened into a smile over a set of elongated canines. Quinn realized then that she wanted it. That she wanted to know what this woman was offering and her heart sped up. The slender being behind her made a sound in the back of her throat. Opened her mouth to say--

“You home Quinn?”

The sudden sound of her voice cuts Quinn’s memories short and they’re forgotten within the span of an instant. She waits a beat to answer, considers not doing again what she’s already been putting off for the past two weeks before she takes a breath, shakes it off and calls Rachel into their bedroom.

-

“You want to do what?”

“Try V,” Quinn answers flatly. “You know, it’s vampires’ blood. People use it…”

“I know what it is,” Rachel replies a little testily. “I want to know why you want to?”

She shrugs. “I think it would be fun.”

Rachel stares at her curiously for a moment before shaking her head. “It’s illegal and there’s no way I’m going down there with those people,” she adds, fingers lifting unconsciously to ghost around her neck. “I think it may be detrimental to my career if my throat gets ripped out."

Quinn laughs but Rachel isn’t being funny and looks up at her confused.

She’s mellowed a lot from when they first met. Rachel has gone from a high-strung, ultra-competitive, selfish but mostly loving seventeen-year old to a twenty something with all those same attributes. The difference is that she’s gained the confidence to know when enough is enough and the backbone to fight when she hasn’t been given her due.

“You find my possible murder humorous?”

Quinn sobers up quickly before she sits next to her. “No, of course not but aren’t you even a little curious about them?” She asks lowly. Don’t you wonder what it’s like to not be afraid? To have no past, no present and really no future? Don’t you wonder what it’s like to be in stasis?

She doesn’t ask those questions but she thinks them. Quinn can hear her own voice take on an almost wistful tinge and finds she’s unable to completely get rid of it. 

“You’ve never been curious what it would be like without having to go all the way?”

“Of course I have,” Rachel admits after a moment. “But that stuff is dangerous Quinn.”

“We wouldn’t have to go down there though,” she says, purposely misunderstanding Rachel’s deeper meaning. “I’ve got some on me.”

Rachel looks surprised before hunching forward and looking down into her lap. “So you’re”-- she sits back up and lowers her voice even though they’re alone-- “holding?”

Quinn smiles, “Yes.” She pats her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about getting murdered.”

Rachel looks up at her then, both suspicious and empathetic. “Why are you bringing this up all of the sudden? Where’s this coming from?” She takes Quinn’s hand and hesitates a little before going on. “I know the anniversary of the adop--”

Quinn grits her teeth but keeps her smile. “It’s not about that, Rachel. I just thought it would be fun to share this with you.” She takes a breath. “If you’re too nervous we don’t have to.”

“Well I didn’t say that--”

“I know that you’ve got a more public career to be worried--”

“Yes I do but I’m capable of just as much fun as you are Quinn and I never said I wouldn’t try it. I just want to know more before making a decision.

Quinn nods. She would rather just jump in but that’s always been her problem. Rachel helps her to stop and think. “Well, Brittany and Santana said--”

“They’ve done it?” She asks with surprise, and Quinn nods. “They’re the ones who gave me the vial.”

“So you three did it together?”

Even though her voice is steady, Quinn can hear that insecure seventeen year old shoving its way back to the other girl’s surface. She can see it too. It’s in Rachel’s rounded shoulders, in her soft eyes and downturned face. Quinn touches her chin and makes her look up.

“No. I wanted to wait to see what you wanted to do.” She gets up and rifles through her drawers before holding up a small, clear bottle filled with a red fluid.

Rachel looks at it nervously and Quinn closes the vial in her hand and out of sight. “If you don’t want to do it we don’t have to. We’ll just go out and forget it. I won’t be angry.”

“No,” Rachel says quickly and Quinn can feel the certainty in her next words. “I want to. I want to do this with you.”

Quinn watches her for a moment and tries to see if there are any doubts or fears in her face, but sees only anticipation. She nods and feels her heart speed up as she twists the cap off. “Good. I’ll go first.”

She squeezes the pump and watches as a small amount is sucked up into the dropper. If she allowed herself to think about what they’re doing, Quinn would be disgusted. They’re about to swallow someone else’s, another species’, blood. So she doesn’t let herself think, just leans her head back and lets it drip onto her tongue. Only a drop, Santana had been adamant about that part, and Quinn makes sure she does as she was told. She expects something but there’s no immediate reaction, just the unpleasant coppery taste of a penny and the sound of her blood pounding through her veins.

She licks her lips and when she lowers her head Rachel’s staring at her. Quinn moves forward, “You now.”

She looks like she’s maybe going to back out but Rachel clears her throat and opens her mouth instead. Quinn repeats her steps: squeezes the pump, watches the blood flow into the dropper before taking it out and carefully dosing Rachel. Quinn caps it back up tightly before placing it on a shelf out of their immediate reach. She doesn’t want to risk them seeing it when they aren’t exactly sober and possibly getting any ideas. She goes back to the bed and takes a seat at its foot next to Rachel.

Santana and Brittany had warned her about the high. That it came on quickly and could be disorienting, so after ten minutes she thinks maybe they got a bad batch until she starts paying attention and realizes it is working, just not in the way they said it would. It doesn’t feel like a shot, like a bolt of lightning. It’s not fast or frightening or uncontrollable. It’s more like a descent. Quinn feels more like she’s being submerged into something thick, something that clings and won’t be rinsed off. Into something warm and deep and slow. She lies back on the bed and closes her eyes as heat spreads from the center of her chest to the tips of her toes. Joyfully lets the feeling take her where it wants her to go.

She sits back up after what feels like a minute but is immediately aware that more time than that has passed. Quinn isn’t sure how much but when she looks at Rachel she’s sweating and breathing hard. She’d removed her clothes at some point and is sitting in only a yellow bra and a pair of striped green panties as she stares straight ahead of them with a big grin. She raises her arm slowly and points her finger.

“Do you see?”

Quinn’s not even looking, all she can focus on suddenly is the flutter of Rachel’s pulse and how the beat of it pulls her forward unconsciously. She gets up onto her knees and tugs the other girls hair free of its tie. Runs her fingers through it and each strand feels like cashmere, like a feather down blanket. Quinn buries her nose in Rachel’s neck and she smells like skin and the soap she washed with earlier. It never occurs to her that she shouldn’t be able to smell that when it had been hours since Rachel’s morning bath. She wouldn’t care even if it had. All she can focus on is the beat at the curve of Rachel’s jaw. Quinn touches the tip of her tongue to it and feels an electric shock.

“Oh,” Rachel almost moans, and leans closer. But the move doesn’t break her concentration. “Look, Quinn.”

She finally pulls herself away to discover that Rachel’s staring at her own reflection in the large mirror above their dresser. Quinn wonders for a moment what she’s seeing before brushing the thought away and moving to straddle her. She uses her body to push Rachel up the bed until her back hits the headboard. Quinn pulls her own shirt and bra off quickly and her nakedness finally pulls Rachel’s attention away from whatever she’s seeing and back to the situation at hand. Quinn reaches down to take off her skirt but doesn’t want to move to pull it all the way off. Decides to leave it for the moment rather than change her current position.

Rachel reaches beneath it and touches her through damp cotton. Waits only a minute before pulling her hand back out and unzipping it for her. She dips her hand back in, under the elastic band of her underwear, and touches her in a way that’s become second nature to them. In just the way she likes and her touch feels good, better than good, but…

Quinn corkscrews her eyes shut and tries to get closer. Finds that the very same skirt she was too busy to remove earlier is restricting her movements and finally removes it before putting Rachel’s hand back between her thighs.

“I…” She doesn’t know what she wants to say but for the first time since she started having sex with Rachel she feels like something’s missing. Like there’s something beyond what she’s feeling now that Quinn just can’t reach.

“I…”

“What?” Rachel asks lowly, and Quinn shakes her head. Pushes herself harder against the other girl’s palm and groans.

“Rachel?”

“Shhh, you don’t have to say it.” she answers quietly and there’s a smile in her voice. “I know.” She slips another finger inside and Quinn’s lids flicker open to see her staring back intensely. “I know what you want.”

Her eyes are shimmering and on some level Quinn knows it’s the V but she feels her heart speed up with slight fear nonetheless. Rachel’s free hand glides up her arm to the side of her neck. Wraps itself around her throat and begins to squeeze. Quinn starts but doesn’t try and pull away from the other girl’s grasp. She’s nervous about the position but not enough to stop rocking her hips forward as Rachel’s grip gets tighter. Earlier she’d felt like she could almost last like this all night. She’d been on the knife’s edge of pleasure and whatever it was the V was doing to them, but what had, a moment ago, been a pleasant if frustrating warmth between her thighs has turned into something needful, something urgent. 

She feels fuzzy, like all her edges have been erased, like the only thing keeping her in this form is a thin layer of skin and Rachel’s hands, without which she’d shatter into a million glittering pieces. The other girl works a third digit inside of her and Quinn comes back to herself, looks down at foreign fingers as they move inside her steadily. Rachel’s’ grip tightens further and she can now only achieve shallow gasps. Quinn feels her face getting hot from the lack of oxygen. This is the first time they’ve ever done anything like this and Quinn never thought she’d be into submission but she thinks this might be just what she missing. Rachel leans forward then and kisses the side of her jaw. Worries the tendon in her neck between blunt teeth before biting down too gently to be serious but too hard to be exactly playful and Quinn thrusts forward without thought. Yeah, this could work if Rachel would rub a little bit harder, give her just a little more.

Suddenly, the hold on her throat is gone and Quinn’s breathing is unobstructed. She goes off so abruptly no sound can escape her lips. Her orgasm is a series of jerks and an open mouth pressed against her partner’s cheek. It’s hard to explain the way she feels then but it’s amazing and horrifying at the same time. Not exactly better but so much different from what she’s used to experiencing that she starts to shake and pulls Rachel closer. She wonders if this is what it feels like when they turn; like they’re changing. Like they’re transforming into something unknown and unknowable. 

She holds Rachel for a moment and Rachel lets herself be held as Quinn comes down, as Quinn regains her faculties and starts to kiss the spot below her ear until she reaches the others girls mouth. Kisses her before slipping down and almost ripping her bra in her haste to get it off and lick at a nipple. She takes it between her teeth and Rachel likes that, Quinn can feel her pushing up, looking for friction, and lets her rub against her before moving away. She goes to kneel between her legs quickly, bends forward to grab her thighs and pulls Rachel down the length of the bed and flat onto her back.

She dispatches with the other woman’s underwear, bends her knees and spreads them as she leans forward to taste and finds her slick and hot as a furnace. Rachel gasps and moves toward her when she pulls away, asking for more, and Quinn lies flat on her chest before leaning up onto her elbows and threading her hands through Rachel’s legs to tug her even closer.

Leans forward again and happily gives her what she wants. Places her hand on Rachel’s abdomen as she pulls her back into her mouth. Reaches her other hand back down and easily slips first two, then a third finger inside of her. Quinn usually has to go slower, work for each inch of give from Rachel’s body, but tonight she’s wet and relaxed enough to take whatever’s being dished out.

Quinn pushes up, without separating, to flatten the other girl’s knees against the mattress with her shoulders and the high-pitched groan she lets out tells Quinn that she likes this position better. She wants to try and make this last for Rachel, make her feel as good as she’s had made Quinn feel, but she can’t hold off. Stops being gentle and runs her nails down the inside of Rachel’s thigh hard enough to leave a mark. Quinn slips a fourth finger inside of her and circles her clit with intent. Stops licking and starts to suck. Moves the digits inside her faster and Rachel rears up so quickly that Quinn barely misses getting her upper lip smashed against her teeth.

She smiles and pulls back to breathe only to finally notice that Rachel’s glowing. Not in that beautifully sweaty way but in the actual lit up from within way. She looks as if a light switch has been flipped inside of her and Quinn thinks maybe she’s been like this the whole time. That Quinn’s only just allowed herself to see the diffused light beneath her skin. She thinks this is what Rachel was staring at in the mirror earlier and wonders if she looks like that too. Then Rachel’s pulling her up to her mouth and she loses her train of thought. She stretches her thumb back to take over her tongue’s job and kisses Rachel almost too delicately for what just came before it. For the way she’s still touching her even now.

Thorough is how she’d describe it. Quinn tugs on Rachel’s lip and slips her tongue inside when she moans. Slows the hand between her thighs down and moves the forearm she’s resting on under Rachel’s neck for a better angle. Rachel bends her knees up on either side of Quinn’s hips and they’re shaking. She’s making gasping choked-off sounds that Quinn recognizes. She watches Rachel’s face as she grimaces in pleasure and holds her as close as possible. It’s hard to believe that this needful being is the same one who had her hand around Quinn’s throat less than 30 minutes ago.

Rachel’s breath catches and Quinn leans down to take her mouth again as she comes against her hand. Switches her touch to something gentle and loving. She’s breathing hard, almost gasping as loudly as the squirming body beneath her is and her arms suddenly feel like lead weights. Now that she’s got a moment to reflect Quinn finds that she’s dead tired and thinks maybe doing this under the effects of the drug has sapped her body of its energy faster than it what it would have if she hadn’t been on V.

Her eyes are fluttering shut and she moves to lie down for a moment. Assures herself that’s she’s only resting and that she’ll get up and do everything she just did again but as soon as her head nestles between Rachel’s breast Quinn is out like a light.

-

When Quinn wakes up there’s sun in her face and she’s curled into the fetal position at the foot of their bed. She starts to move and stops short with a groan. She is as sore she used to get after cheerleading practice when they’d done nothing but suicides and tumbles all afternoon. She starts to move again, slowly this time, and looks down to take stock of her body. She notices she has a large semi round bruise on her shoulder blade and isn’t exactly sure of when she got it.

She touches it gently before glancing up to see Rachel looking back with an empathetic smile, two pain pills and a large glass of water. She hands them over and Quinn pulls the blanket around her naked shoulders as Rachel sits down next to her.

“I thought you were off today.”

“The writer’s pitching a fit about one of the songs. We got called in.”

“That’s too bad,” she mutters and looks back at her shoulder. “I guess there won’t be any spaghetti straps in my near future.”

“I can relate. I won’t be wearing that bathing suit I brought anytime soon either.”

“Why?” Quinn asks curiously.

“I’ve got a handprint on my thigh.”

“You do not!”

The other girl stands and Quinn feels a spark of interest as she shimmies until the black pencil skirt she’s wearing is high enough for Quinn to see the outline of five fingers imprinted on her flesh.

She grimaces and reaches out to touch the bruise. “I did that?”

“Who else?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It made me feel great at the time.”

A moment passes with the sort of uncomfortable quiet that hasn’t passed between them in years. Neither of them knows what to say.

“We should never do that again.” Rachel says quietly and Quinn readily agrees.

“Never!”

“I mean it lasts too long, it makes you crazy and it’s probably really addicting…

“Right, it’s too much.”

“Yes!”

Rachel sits back down and each of them is too busy thinking to speak.

“So it’s decided then,” the other girl states with purpose. “We’ll only do it every now and then.”

“Like on special occasions!”

“Certain holidays!”

“Right,” Quinn replies firmly. “We don’t want to become junkies or anything.”

They only last a second before breaking out in laughter and Quinn relaxes. They feel like themselves again. Rachel moves to pull Quinn in for a kiss.

“I discovered another good thing about V earlier,” Rachel mutters against her lips with a secret smile. “No morning breath.”


	8. Theatre Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ _Lea Michelle/Matthew Morrison_  
>  Explicit - RPF]

When she opens the door to her limo after The Golden Globes, he’s already inside with a half-empty bottle of Dom Perignon in one hand and a box of tissues in the other.

“Thought you might need them to contain the waterworks,” Matthew says and tosses the box toward her. Lea narrows her eyes and quickly gets into the car. The last thing she wants is another picture of them with the words seen canoodling typed beneath it. She doesn’t speak until her door is closed and the driver has pulled away from the curb.

More than one possible response flits through Rachel’s mind before she rolls her eyes and says, “You’re just pissed I got more screen time,” with arms crossed protectively over her chest.

He scoffs and takes another swig from the bottle before offering it to her. Lea reaches for it, then stops short, looking confused.

“Champagne’s vegan, right?”

“Hell if I know,” he responds. She remembers how much she weighed the first season of Glee before dropping her hands into her lap.

“I better not.”

He shrugs. “More for me then.”

She watches him gulp the liquor down with a mixture of jealousy and revulsion. She briefly wonders how he stays fit when he drinks so much but decides asking him that now would be a mistake. They have a strange relationship. When they like each other, there’s no one who can understand her better, but when they don’t… Tonight seems like it’s one of those nights.

Thinking of his earlier jab, she says, “It’s not like I was the only one crying anyway.”

“Yeah, but you were the only one looking for the nearest camera.”

“Whatever.” She responds, irritated. “How did you get in here anyway? Where are you going?”

He says, “If you say so,” as he settles the bottle into the built-in ice bucket. “And don’t worry about where I’m going. I already told him.” Matthew points at the man behind the wheel before reaching behind her head to lower the privacy screen. He then turns to face her and asks something with the same amount of seriousness she imagines he would use to talk about world affairs. “What color are your panties?”

It’s such a creepy question and Lea hates that word, panties. He sounds like a total letch when he says it, all hard p’s and elongated s’s. It’s also a complete non-sequitur. It throws her off, just like he probably wanted it to because—somewhere between her being annoyed, then put off at his gall —Matthew’s hand has found its way to her knee and he’s pulling the fabric up as he slides closer.

He’s drunk and a decade older than she is. Too old to be acting like this, too old for her to ever find it attractive but, dear God, her thighs are parting of their own free will and his hand is sliding between them with no resistance whatsoever.

“Are you going to answer the question?”

When she doesn’t say anything, he bends over at the waist and starts to push her legs apart. “Well I guess I’ll just have to see—“

“Hey—“

“—for myself,” he finishes before slipping from the seat and getting to his knees in front of her. “Open up then,” he orders.

“No,” she says, but her voice is too breathy to be taken seriously. Now he has that I’m about to get what I want look and they’ve been here before, at this almost point. They’ve never gone further though. Then he touches the thin skin of her inner thigh and she lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding, wondering what took them so long.

He drags his thumb in a tight circle, close enough to tantalize but too far away to satisfy. She closes her eyes as he drags her dress further up, past her knees, up to her thighs, and stops at her waist when it won’t go any further.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, and Lea bites her bottom lip to keep the smile from her face. “I thought you would know I can’t wear underwear with a dress like this, Matthew.”

When she opens her eyes, he’s looking down. She watches, trying not to move or twist away or hurry him up as he licks his thumb and touches her clit. She pushes herself forward He rocks up on his knees, sliding his hips between her legs to keep them open, and he’s practically lying on top of her. His mouth is against her neck and she kicks her shoes off, drags her feet up his sides until she can wrap her legs around his waist.

“Lea?”

She bites back an involuntarily moan when he says her name. “Yeah?”

“I keep your GQ shoot on my nightstand.”

There’s dead silence for a moment, then she starts to laugh—that comment’s too stupid for her not to— and the thin sheet of ice between them melts. Lea can feel his smile when he finally starts to move his hand against her. When he takes the lobe of her ear between his teeth and she grabs the lapels of his jacket on a heavy breath. He doesn’t fumble or tease, he doesn’t try to shove three fingers inside of her right off the bat or sink his thumb in her ass—which can be nice sometimes, but a girl appreciates a warning.

He gets his fingers wet, rubs her clit gently, then harder to gauge exactly what she likes. He slips first one, then a second finger inside of her, works his thumb along the right side of her and Lea squeezes her eyes shut on a gasp.

“There?”

She doesn’t try to answer, just presses herself closer and that’s answer enough. She wonders again why it took her so long to do this. He was Fabrizio. He’s the original Link Larkin. He was in a freakin’ boy band and he’s pinching her clit hard enough that it straddles the line between something painful and something awesome and she pushes up into his touch with little to no shame.

The orgasm is sharp and sudden. it's not the warm, slow build that she’s used to and even though it’s good, better than anything, she wants more. She knows he could give her more too—if they had a bed he could spread her out on and a locked door behind which to hide—but there’s no time for that now.

“This is my stop!”

She’s startled by how loud he says that and she realizes then that the car is no longer moving. He pulls back, smooths down her dress and his hair. When her driver opens the door, Matthew climbs out without a backwards glance. He’s hard. She could feel it, and now she can see the length of him, but he doesn’t seem bothered by his state, so she doesn’t bring attention to it.

Lea sits up and tries to catch her breath, looks at their surroundings and notices all that’s behind him is an abandoned strip mall and a gas station. She wonders exactly what he’s doing out here. Matthew’s started to walk away when he stops, turns around and says, “Oh, by the way,” while leaning into the window. “You look ridiculous in that dress.”

And just like that, they’re back to what they’ve always been. Lea’s surprised by how much that doesn’t bother her. They’ll get another chance to finish this. She looks up and shoots him a knowing grin.

“Not as ridiculous as you will when your CD flops.”

His smile looks frozen on his face and her driver pulls away before he can form a coherent come-back. Lea relaxes into the seat with a cheerful sigh. Her friend won an award, she had an orgasm, she got one over on Matthew, and she’s skinny.

It’s been a good day.


End file.
